


Biblichor

by Bleumoo



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, F/F, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-08-18 17:40:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16521653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bleumoo/pseuds/Bleumoo
Summary: When the world ends, books are your friends.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of too much time on my hands at work and not enough Venable fic out there. I would say that this is canon divergent, as I don't plan on introducing any Langdon or the witches or anything. I consider this a character study on Whilamena Venable if anything. There will be more if people want it. 
> 
> Feedback is life, please let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, big thanks to @sc-rp, @et-pacis, @depresseddisneyprincess, and @teacupsandcandles on tumblr for letting me bounce ideas off of them and giving me encouragement when I got stuck. I couldn't have finished this without you. 
> 
> I use quotes from Byron, She Walks in Beauty and Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Marquez. Don't sue me, Ryan Murphy, I'm doing this for free.

It could be worse, you consider as you push the dated iron cart among the short stacks of bookcases lining the room. The apocalypse had come and gone and you were fortunate enough to have been chosen for…something? The exact train of events had become muddled in your mind.

—-

You remember observing the panic and terror at the thought of impending doom, watching from the interior of the book shop you owned as pandemonium ensued. You had no family of your own, being a product of the foster system. Everything you had was here, and if the end was really nigh, why bother running? You felt fear, yes, but also a calm that you couldn’t explain.

You locked the door, realizing too late that the burly man in the suit exiting the SUV was intending to enter your shop.  He pulled the handle after meeting your eyes, once, twice, then smashed the opaque window with a gloved fist, littering the floor with shards of glass. He seemed surprised at your reaction, or lack thereof, as you crossed your arms and met him halfway between your desk and the door. He gave you a speech about why he was there, and to come with him now. You shrugged nodding toward the mess on the tile.  

“Yeah, fine, but you know, you could have just knocked.”

—–

You ended up here, some subterranean facility called Outpost 3. The two groups of people here seemed divided into elite purples and service working greys based on some arbitrary unknown system. You ended up a grey. There was food and shelter here, at least.   Some of the others had the undesirable jobs of cleaning toilets and scrubbing walls, however the only job assigned to you was tending to the surprisingly large collection of tomes here. That, and one hour of reading to the group of purples after their dinner. An "enrichment hour", as you were told. 

There are a few that seem to enjoy it now and then, others are wholly apathetic towards the entire situation ad pay you no mind. The singular person that remains attentive to your nightly speech is none other than the leader of this place, Wilhemina Venable.  She had come to you shortly after your group had arrived here to assign your task as what was essentially a librarian.

She is an imposing woman, to be sure, and many of the others avoid her or outright fear her. You had seen her be cold to others, going so far as to smack one of the purples when they interrupted you one night to heckle your pronunciation of a word, citing a disrespect for culture as her motivation to violence.

She was never like this with you, and you had begun to wonder why.

Within the first week of your arrival, she would appear in the library daily. She would be alone, without her almost constant companion Ms. Meade. It was easy for you to follow her path through the stacks, the sound of her cane gave away her location most of the time. She would then return to your makeshift circulation desk to place a single book down . You would then take note of the book in your ledger. She would not speak to you, but you always made it a point to comment on her choice. It was a personal tic of sorts, you had always tried to make small talk with your customers and you weren’t going to stop now. No matter how nervous this woman made you feel.

“Poe, huh? Had to read a collection in high school. Not a fan. I did like Telltale Heart, though.”

“Did you know they credit Cervantes with coining the phrase ’tilting at windmills’? I mean, you would, if you’ve read this before…”

“I had a dog named Queequeg, my mother hated that name. I named my goldfish Ishmael just to irritate her.”

She would say nothing to you, merely take her book and leave, but her demeanor was not unkind.  This went on for weeks, possibly months by your estimation. It was difficult to track the passage of time these days.

A turning point eventually came, as her choice of The Collected Works of Byron caused you to  flip through the pages thoughtfully. You didn’t immediately return the book to her as you usually did, instead smiling to yourself.

“Oh, Byron…you know, he is my favorite." ' _She walks in beauty, like the night,_ _Of cloudless climes and starry skies’…”_

As you looked up, holding the book out towards her, you noticed her looking at you in a peculiar way. Perhaps you had overstepped your bounds as a grey somehow…however she did not look at all unhappy. Instead she reached out to take the book from  your hand, licked her lips and spoke,  

_“‘And all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes; thus mellowed to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies.’”_

You couldn’t help the grin that crossed your features at her knowledge of your favorite poem, and you could swear that the corner of her lip ticked up slightly in response as she tucked the book against her side. She turned to go, addressing you as she exited the room.

“I expect to see you after dinner, Miss Y/N. Bring some Byron, if you like.”

The pleased look on your face remained. 

—

Something had changed, however subtly, after that day. You would continue to offer observations of her literary choices, and she would offer a short response. You would smile, and you could swear that she would almost smile in return. You found yourself looking forward to hearing her telltale cane coming down the hallway. You also told yourself that the fact your heart sped up at the sight of her was mere coincidence.

These interactions remained contained to the library, as when you saw her among the others after dinner, she would meet your eyes but rarely spoke to you while they ate. You guessed this was to maintain her air of superiority, her distance from everyone else.

You continued to read aloud nightly, sometimes from poem anthologies, short stories, and the like. You picked only what you liked at first, but you found yourself often choosing something that you thought Ms. Venable would like. You told yourself it was because she was the only one who regularly paid you any attention, nothing else. For anyone observing, there was no change in her demeanor while she listened to your orations, but sometimes when you looked up, you felt your heart stutter in your chest at the look in her eyes. Being the focus of her attention not once but twice a day was beginning to affect you. You told yourself over and over you had no idea why.

—

During the day, a good few people would come in the library. Some would mill about and quietly socialize, others would read off on their own in their rooms. Hardly anyone stayed too long, and as such you had plenty of time yourself to think. You thought about the people you knew before. Loves lost and all that. The world that was gone. There was nothing to be done about any of that, and it caused you no ill feelings. Recently your thoughts had taken a different turn. You found yourself wondering about Ms Venables past. Where did she come from? What was her story? Did she ever wonder about you? You had asked some of the others if they knew, and rarely did you get a response other than “why would you care?” or “Shes such a bitch no one knows.”

You told yourself your interest in her was simple curiosity, nothing more, as you pulled the book laden cart beside you to climb up the attached ladder. You had decided today to reorganize some of the shelves, something to keep your mind occupied, as it so often tended to drift off recently. It was only half working as you pulled two particularly large tomes off the top shelf, one slipping from your grasp and landing with a thud on the floor. You climbed back down to grab the book only to find it was gone, and as you stood and turned you found yourself face to face with the object of your speculation. She held the dropped book in her free hand, just slightly out of your reach. How had you not heard her coming?

“You certainly are making a racket, Y/N. I was under the impression that this was a library, is it not? Or do you not abide by the rules when you are alone?”

The blush you felt tinging your cheeks was certainly because she saw you knock something down; it couldn’t possibly be because with the cart behind you, you had no where to go. It was absolutely not because she was so close to you that you could smell her. She smelled almost like cloves and cinnamon; you could see the material of the scarf that was wrapped around her slender neck had gold filigree at the edges. The curve of her lips made your mouth go dry and a sudden, fleeting thought ran unbidden through your head.

_Kiss her._

“Rules are meant to be broken, are they not, Ms. Venable? Unless of course, they are your rules, I’d never break them…”, you step closer to her to take the book from her hands. You notice with some small surprise that as your fingers touch during the exchange, her eyes widen imperceptibly. She appears to inhale sharply when you don’t immediately pull away from this accidental contact. Your heart is racing as you lean towards her and feel her fingers twitch and curl against yours. You are both still holding the book, but neither of you makes a move to pull away.

“…I wouldn’t want you to have to punish me.”

At this, you see something cloud her dark eyes. It is momentary but you are certain you see it. She releases her hold on the book, smoothing her hand across the fabric of her dress. She steps away from you, and you lean back against your cart.  You have managed to produce some sort of emotion within her, whatever it may be and the thought of this thrills you to the core. Your skin tingles where your fingers touched and you wonder quickly if she is feeling this as well. Both of her hands are now gripping the top of her cane, one finger tapping incessantly against the ornamented top. Is she nervous? Have you managed to somehow get under her skin?

“Yes, well…I..”, her voice sounds slower, huskier than usual. She clears her throat.

“You are incorrect. Rules are necessary for the stability of a society, no matter how small.  You’ll find tonight’s passage highlighted in the text on your desk. Take care to be on time, Y/N, tardiness is unacceptable.”

She turns from you, disappearing around the corner without looking back. You shake your head, returning slowly to your desk to find a ear marked copy of Love in Time of Cholera that you have never seen before. It appears to be a first edition, and as you open the cover to check the copyright date you see neat script in the upper corner.

_**Wilhemina Venable** _

You smirk, flipping through the pages to see handwritten notes in the margins, highlighted passages and well worn page edges. The thought of holding something so personal, so obviously important to her causes you to be unable to contain your mirth, and you laugh out loud, alone in your library.

—–

That night, you arrived on time, as you always do. You take your position at the head of the living area. Your eyes scan the room, noticing that Ms. Venable is seated closer to you than she normally is. In fact, she is directly in your line of sight, seated casually on an overstuffed chair. Her cane sat at the side of her chair as she listened to a blonde purple you had never seen before. As her eyes landed on you, she seemed to sit up straighter.  The fingers of her free hand began languidly stroking the adornment at the top of her cane. You felt a flush of envy and something else, wondering absently what such an action would feel like on your own skin. You felt like the whole room could see right through you and thankfully, the chiming of the clock was your cue. You opened the book and began to read.

The hour passes without incident, no one falls asleep or draws Ms. Venable’s ire. It would seem to be difficult tonight to achieve the latter, as the woman has not looked away from you once. She appeared to almost be in a state of anticipation. What is she waiting for? Nothing is different about tonight, it is the same as the countless nights before. You ignore the nagging feeling you have and continue reading.

_“To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else’s heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her braid, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, but he did not dare approach her for fear of destroying the spell.”_

As the last word left your lips, the clock began to chime again. The chatter of the purples standing and exiting the room seemed to be  muted. Ms. Venable remained seated, however, and that look you had seen earlier, the one that had come and gone in the blink of an eye…had returned. She held your gaze, and your heart began to pound. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as she stood and approached you, stopping a few steps in front of you. The thought that she chose this passage for you to read set butterflies alight in your stomach. Did she know? Was this a retaliation for your earlier bravado? Couldn’t be.

“Excellent work, Ms. Y/N. Did you enjoy my suggestion?”

Your eyes swept the room. With the exception of the few greys clearing the dishes from the table, the two of you were alone.

“Yes, Ms. Venable. I read this book years ago.” you hesitated, unsure if you should even ask. You lowered your voice, leaning towards her slightly. To your surprise, she leaned in as well to copy your stance.  “Do you want this back now? Or..”

She pressed her lips together, and you thought you heard a thoughtful hmm as the corner of her lip raised in a half smile. Her voice was a half whisper; it was as if the two of you were sharing a secret.

“You may return it to me later. Come to my room tonight, Ms Y/N. 10 o’clock, sharp.” She pivoted on her heel away from you, crossing the room in quick strides to meet with Ms. Mead. The other woman had been waiting, gesturing down another hallway. Before the two left your sight, Ms. Venable glanced over her shoulder at you. It may have been a trick of the candle lit hallway, but  you would swear you saw her smile.

—

The next few hours seemed like days. You changed your clothes three times, a bit redundant since all your clothing was grey.  You put your hair up, put in in a clip, and then finally decided to leave it loose. Why in the hell were you so nervous? You’re just returning a book. To the woman in charge here. Who you have been constantly thinking about.  In her private room. At night.

You press your hands to your face and rub your eyes.  You were so tired. No sense in worrying about it now. You pick up the book and quietly leave your room. The unofficial lights out of the compound is 9 o’clock, but it is still not unusual to see one or two people heading to bed. Still, it wouldn’t do for someone to see you so you keep as low of a profile as possible.

You arrive at her door with minutes to spare. You raise your hand to knock, but before you can the door is pulled open. Your breath catches in your throat.

Standing before you is clearly Wilhemina Venable, but like you never dreamed you would see her.  She is dressed in a simple lace shift. Over this a black silk robe is clinched at her waist, and most surprising to you is her hair. It has been released from its severe coif and tumbles down her shoulders in soft auburn waves. Your palms begin to itch with the almost overpowering desire to run your fingers through her hair. You dig the fingers of your free hand into your palm. She is gorgeous and you fear your heart may beat out of your chest if you don’t take a breath.

“Hi…I brought you, I mean, here is your book.”

You mentally kick yourself, holding out the item in your hand. She takes it wordlessly from you, stepping aside to let you in. You take in your surroundings as the she shuts the door behind you.

Her room is not as expansive as you expected. There is a large fireplace at the center, two comfortable looking chairs placed in front of it. The decor is almost minimalist. A table here, a bed and end table on the opposite side of the room. Sitting on the table is a tea kettle and two cups. Apparently being in charge allows for some small pleasures. You take the seat she gestures towards, and accept the cup she hands you. She still has not spoken and neither have you, but this silence is not awkward. She sits, observing you over the rim of her glass. The firelight dances across her, enhancing the sharp lines of her face and bringing a warmth to her that you have never seen. For not the first time, you allow yourself to entertain the thought that she is beautiful. You wonder what she is thinking, and before you can stop yourself you ask that very question. You cover your mouth, wondering how the hell you didn’t stop that.

And she laughs. She actually laughs. An honest, completely endearing laugh. You feel a soft look come over your face, lowering your head to hide such a obvious response.

“I was wondering if the great orator had suddenly lost all ability to speak, however I see that I was wrong.”

You can feel a grin forming on your face. “Then you would have no one to read your favorite novels,” you tap the book on the table, “and no one to impress with your first editions. How did you come by this?”

She reclines in the chair, stirring the cup in her hand. “You know, I don’t exactly recall. I seem to have had it in my possession for some time, but I cannot remember how I came to acquire it. I would imagine before the fall. It is my favorite prose. What are you fond of, other than Lord Byron?”

You mirror her position, reclining into the overstuffed chair. You take a sip of your tea.

“I would say I’m your typical bookworm. I have too many favorites to list, as cliche as that sounds. Being in the book business, as I was, it wasn’t profitable to be picky. I had a myriad of interests. If I had to choose…1984, by Orwell.”

This answer seemed to satisfy her, and the two of you traded literary inquiries into the night. Conversation between you came easily, and you found yourself more relaxed that you can remember being.  How nice this is, you thought to yourself, I could get used to it.

You must have dozed off for a moment, perhaps more, as you awoke covered in a plush blanket. You looked across the table to see her looking at you almost fondly, though when you noticeably moved that look faded from her countenance. She leaned down next to you, nudging you slightly.

“As much as I wish I could tell you to stay, it would not bode well for either of us for you to spend your night here. You need to go, darling.”

You looked up, she was so close to you. Was this a dream? She didn’t just call you darling, did she? Your groggy mind struggled to make sense of this, but all you could focus on was how near she was to you. If you reached out, you could…

Your hand gently met her cheek, cupping her face. You barely noticed the raise of her eyebrows at such a movement. Your sleep addled brain offered no resistance to the words spilling from your mouth, a whisper.

“You are so exquisite.”

Two things happened then, mostly at once. Your thumb brushed across her lips as she closed her eyes and leaned into your touch. A soft exhalation of breath ghosted across your fingertips. Her hand came up to cover yours, lacing your fingers together.

This moment between the two of you seemed suspended in time until she delicately removed  her hand. You pulled away as well. Her eyes opened to meet yours, and saw the hunger you were feeling, a yearning for touch, reflected back at you. The air hung thick with tension as she stood and you did the same. You were the first to break the silence once again as you made your way to the door.

“I should go, you are right. I suppose I will see you tomorrow, Ms. Venable?”

“Yes…,” once more her voice had that throaty quality to it. The one you only ever heard directed at you. The sound sent shivers down your spine. “…I suppose you will. Goodnight, Y/N.”

As the door shut behind you, you headed back to your room knowing something fundamental had changed between the two of you this night. What is was, however, remains to be seen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> massive, huge, enormous thanks to @et-pacis on tumblr. she is at this point pretty much a coauthor, and my biggest help. I couldn't have done this without her. <3  
> this is unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> feedback soothes the savage beast! please tell me what you think.

\--Chapter 2--

 

The morning following your midnight rendezvous, one of your associates shook you awake. It was an hour before you usually woke and given the previous night’s events, you had much on your mind and little sleep. You brushed their hand away, finally sitting up. 

“What? What is it?”

The girl before you was also a grey, but much younger than yourself. She seemed annoyed at your gruff tone. 

“There is a new group going through decon right now. Venable wants us there.” She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “We will probably end up just standing there while she drones on about rules, or whatever. Who knows with her. Anyway I’m supposed to send everyone upstairs.”

You hoped the small smile that crossed your face at the mention of Venable would go unnoticed as you climbed out of bed. 

“Yeah, I’m coming. I just want to change.”

The young girl shrugged her shoulders again as she spun on her heel to exit your room. Before she shut the door, she called out. 

“I wouldn’t be late, you know how she gets about punctuality. She might flog you or something.”

Somehow, you doubted that. 

\---

The group of two men and one woman stood in front of Venable and Meade, flanked by the purples. You stood in the last of three rows of greys. 

The young girl was halfway right. Venable was giving her usual speech, punctuating certain points with a rap of her cane on the tile floor. Partway through her talk of quarter assignments and shower schedules, the taller of the two men stuck his hand in the air. When he was not immediately addressed, he whistled through his teeth to grab the attention of the room. 

Venable stopped mid sentence and the silence that overtook the chamber was almost suffocating. She stepped down from the elevated section of the floor. The crowd parted as she made her way towards him. He stood with his hand on his hip, a smirk on his face. His saccharine southern drawl made made your teeth hurt.

“So little lady, where’s the man in charge here? I need to talk to him about some things.”

Though you couldn’t see her face, you could picture the look on it. Eyebrows raised incredulously at the unmitigated gall of this individual.

“Had you been paying attention, you incompetent simpleton, you would know that there is no man in charge here. I am in charge here. In my absence,” she gestured to her right at Ms. Meade, “She is in charge here. As for speaking to me...” she stepped closer to him, placing her gloved finger squarely in the center of his chest and pushing. The man stepped back.

“Unless it is in regards to your abhorrent lack of decorum and tact, I can confirm that you and I have nothing to discuss.”

She dropped her finger and turned to face the assembled crowd. Her eyes met yours almost immediately, you cast your gaze to the floor as your faced turned pink. She raised her voice to reach the ears of all present. 

“Does anyone else have any questions regarding the chain of command here? Anyone?”

The room remained silent. 

“Excellent. Do try to make our new residents comfortable, however...,” she glanced behind her to the man from earlier, who had put his arm around the woman he arrived with. The woman looked exceedingly uncomfortable.  
“...irritating they may be. We are all in this together. You are dismissed.” 

\---

The rest of your week was rather uneventful. The obnoxious man from a the meeting had brought a trunk of books with him. Ms. Meade had convinced him to donate them to you, whether with bribery or threat of violence, you were not sure. As you finished cataloging the last few, you leaned down in your chair. You had little space on your desk so some of the books had to be temporarily relocated while you sorted them. The sound of the door to the library barely registered in your mind as your were focused in your task. Upon sitting up, you found yourself seated before Mr. Obnoxious. He was leaning across your desk, as much in your space as he could possibly be. His wide grin belied the salacious glint in his eye as he raked his eyes down your torso. 

“Well hello darlin’, I see you got my collection there. What do you think? Pretty impressive, yeah? What all did I bring ya’?”

You shrugged, and pulled the list you’d just made towards yourself. 

“Nothing particularly exciting. Mostly general reference books. Several sports how to guides, a waterlogged copy of ‘Guitar for Dummies’, and an issue of Newsweek from 1998.” You looked up, tapping your pencil against the cover of the sodden item in front of you. “Do you want this one back? I’m going to use it as junk, so if you needed it back...”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, though you doubted he had the capacity for it. While he was making a show of this simple decision, you again heard the sound of the wooden door thudding shut. As the sound of a cane echoing down the hallway reached your ears, the man reached out to take your hand from where you had it resting. 

“I might be persuaded to part with it, if you’d tell me your name. I bet it is as beautiful as you are.” He smiled his cloying smile again, but you paid him no mind. Over his shoulder, you saw Ms. Venable stop in the foyer. Your eyes met her face and you swore you saw a muscle in her jaw twitch. 

The buffoon before you must have been deaf as well as dumb, for he appeared to take no notice of the woman approaching him from behind. He was not much taller than she, especially considering the heels she currently wore. He remained staring at you, your hand limp in his, thumb rubbing circles on your palm. Ms. Venable leaned towards his ear as her eyes darted down to your joined hands. 

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

He jumped, dropping your hand and turning to face her.

“I was just seein’ how my books are doing. If I had known they’d be in the care of such a pretty little thing,” he made another move to brush your hand, you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms. “I’d have dropped them of here myself. You know I’m a purveyor of fine literature and fine women, and I got lucky here.” He made eyes at you, you raised a brow rolled your eyes. “This has to be the cutest librarian I ever saw, so I thought-- Miss...Venaby, was it? So I was thinkin’, why not--”

That muscle definitely twitched in her jaw this time. She held up a hand to silence him. 

“Venable. Ms. Venable. And I can assure you, I do not care what infantile thoughts you have managed to put together in that Darwinian brain of yours. As for fine literature,” she held her hand out to you, and you handed the list of his donations to her. She perused the listing briefly.“What a blessing you have bestowed upon us the ‘365 Days of Golf Tips’ How impressive. I cannot imagine how we would have survived without it. If that concludes your business here, I encourage you to go elsewhere.’”

She lays the paper back in your palm, and you feel the tips of her fingers linger just a bit too long in the inside of your wrist. It is almost a caress. You blame the cool climate of the library for the goose bumps that appear on your skin. You also hoped the two in front of you were enough into puffing their feathers at each other that they take no mind of you. 

Venable has now positioned herself across from you, her free hand rests on your desk, almost possessively. Her steely glare remains completely focused on the poor soul’s face. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. She manages to look down on this man who is at least a few inches taller than her. You can’t help but feel just a smidgen of enjoyment from witnessing this exchange. 

He rocks back on his heels, casting a sidelong glance at you. He stage whispers in your direction. “Is she always this rude?”

You shrug, Venable strikes her cane on the floor and the sound sharply echoes. She steps forward, bringing the two of them toe to toe.

“If you have a question regarding me, it would do you well to address me rather than pretend I am not standing before you. To answer your query, as you will soon find...rude is an understatement.” She leans towards his face, looking every bit the imposing figurehead she claims to be. 

“Now, get out of my sight.”

He looks from her to you, then virtually tucks his tail and runs from the room. Venable remains glaring after him until you both hear the sound of the door clanking shut. At this point you can no longer contain the laughter you had been holding in. She turns towards you, and you see her expression soften. She holds her hand to her chest, feigning concern. 

“Do you think I was too harsh? He is, after all, our new literary benefactor.” You are still chuckling, you shake your head. 

“I think you scared him off for the time being. Is that what you were going for, instilling terror in the first week?” You slide your chair back and stand, lifting your arms above your head in a stretch. You can feel your shirt ride up just a bit, having been bunched up from your sitting position. You watch her eyes dip to the band of skin that has come on display from your movements, see her swallow as you self consciously tug your top back into place. She avoids your gaze, moving a few books around on your desk and muttering, “I simply detest undesireables touching my things.”

Before you have the chance to ask if she is referring to you or to the books, you hear the clamor of several women coming down the hallway. Venable visibly stiffens. Without thinking, you place your hand on hers, giving it a quick squeeze. You can feel her relax, but only slightly. She tugs you closer to her, watching down the hallway, seemingly judging the time she has remaining before the two of you are no longer alone.

“Would you come to see me tonight? Ten?”

A broad smile comes instantly to your face. “Its a date.”

You can see, even in this low light, that you’ve made her blush. She releases her grip on you and steps back to put some distance between you, but not before you catch the smile on her face. She begins to make her way toward the door as the group of women enter, their chattering ceasing as she passes them. You take your seat again, hearing one whisper to the other as they pass your desk.

“Was she smiling?”

\---

You slip from your room, narrowly avoiding two women in the hallway. In your hand, you held a small paper flower. 

You had spent the rest of your day anticipating seeing her again. You tried to keep yourself busy; it had been a week to the day from your last encounter and you had missed her. Granted, you saw her at least twice a day, but it was different when the two of you could well and truly be alone. On a whim, you tore a page out of the ruined book you had on your desk and folded it the way your sister had taught you, intending for it to be a gift.

As you approached her room, you felt half foolish for even bringing it. You slipped it into your pocket, raising your hand to knock. She must have been waiting as after your first light tap, the door swung open and she stood aside to allow you admittance. 

You felt the flood of blood rush to your cheeks as she came to stand before you. She was wearing the same outfit as before, however this time her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. The urge to take her into your arms was overwhelming, so instead you stuck your hands into the pockets of your pants. She was smiling softly at you, and you found yourself mirroring it. 

You stood like that for a moment, both of you seemingly unsure. You took a breath and reached out to take her free hand in yours. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet her gaze. Instead you twined your fingers together and squeezed her hand. 

“I’ve missed you,” you speak quietly, daring to meet her eyes at last. She chuckled softly and brought your joined hands to her chest for a brief moment. You felt those damn butterflies again, swirling in your belly as she rested her chin on your clasped hands. 

“I’ve missed you as well. Thank you for coming.”

This exchange seemed to have done the trick. Any awkwardness the two of you had been feeling dissapated as you both took your seats. 

She held up the deck of cards sitting on the table, and you nodded, watching as she split the deck and began to shuffle it. 

“What do you know how to play?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully with a finger. “Gin, rummy, hearts, spades...go fish...strip poker?”

She laughed again, splitting the deck one last time before beginning to deal. Her laugh continued to cause your head to swim and you wondered if you could make her laugh like that every day; if you could see her like this every day. The thought made warmth spread in your chest. 

“Why don’t we start with go fish, that’s easy enough for a first date,” she winks at you and you can’t help but giggle. You pick up your hand and sit back. She does the same. You cross your legs and lean forward towards her, smirking. “So what do I get when I win?”

She grins, reaching out to squeeze your knee. “Very presumptous of you to think you will. I suppose we will find out then, hmm? Best of five?”

\--

Not that it is a surprise to you, but Venable has a shockingly good poker face. You manage to both win two games, and as she deals the final hand you sit back in your chair. Picking at a loose thread on the arm, you inquire smugly, “What were you saying before, about me being presumptuous?”

She finishes dealing and shakes a finger in your direction. “That kind of attitude will get you nowhere, you know. You haven’t won the war yet.”

You fan your cards in front of you, resting them against your chin. “That sounds like something someone who is about to lose would say.”  
She rolls her eyes in faux exasperation. “Your level of confidence in yourself is awe-inspiring, but need I remind you that I’ve beaten you twice?” 

You balk for a moment, then begin to snicker. “And I beat you twice, what is your point? Let’s finish this, shall we?”

\--  
Shortly thereafter, you watched Venable throw her cards down with a self satisfied look on your face. You couldn’t help but gloat, just a little. “The mighty Ms. Venable, exhalted ruler of outpost 3, has lost the game!”

She squinted at you, attempting to keep her face straight. “Must you rub it in? I have a weak disposition; too much criticism could hurt my feelings.”

At this, you both began to laugh. To see her, here like this, was quickly becoming your favorite activity. Making her laugh filled you with joy, and the way her eyes lit up for you was the most endearing thing. You never saw her like this with anyone else, which was a good thing. If anyone else were to share moments like these with her, you don’t think you could bear it . 

As your laughter tapered off naturally, she held her hands up in a display of defeat. “Fine, fine. What would you like as your prize? Anything you like.” She was looking at you admiringly. You chewed your lower lip a bit. She folded her hands in her lap, waiting expectantly. 

_Kiss me? Please kiss me? Please kiss me, right now._

You took a deep breath. 

“Honestly, I want know more about you.” You could see something change in her eyes, and she rested her chin in her hand. Her unreadable expression made you feel like squirming in your seat. “What did you do before all this? What was your job?”

“Would you believe I was in HR? Don’t laugh, really I was. I was a ...human resourcesish, personal assistant of sorts to these...,” she pinched the bridge of her nose “...utter morons that consumed more cocaine than I could purchase in the Silicon Valley.”

You furrowed your brow and tilted your head to the side. “Your job was to...buy blow?”

She laughed ruefully, shaking her head. “I had many jobs, and I excelled at them all. Those morons of mine had more expendable income than they knew what to do with. They went through interns as if it was going out of style. I would say that I kept a multi billion dollar robotics corporation afloat, as its founders were too preoccupied with blow jobs and coke to do so. Does that answer your question? What did you do?”

You nodded, and shrugged. “I’m much less exciting. I owned and operated a bookstore in Portland. I had a cat. Rode my bike alot...made things like this.” You pulled the flower from your pocket, lifting your fingers to trace the paper petals. She was watching you, her eyes transfixed on the motion on your fingertips. You took a deep breath, holding it out to her. 

She reached out, taking it from you tenderly, holding it close. “You made this? It’s magnificent.” She began lovingly stroking the petals in the same way you had moments before. You felt a hot rush of jealousy; that inanimate object was the recipient of one of your secret desires. One you had only recently admitted to yourself. You’d become fascinated with her hands, she was actually quite expressive with them if you knew what to look for. Always stroking along the intricate top of her cane, or absently running the tips of her fingers over covers of books as you two spoke in the library. You had begun to covet her touch, yet had no idea how acquire it. 

“I did make it...I made it for you. I want you to have it.”

She looked up as you stood and kneeled beside her. She was watching you curiously but made no movements to get away. Taking her free hand and covering it with your own, you placed it upon the lower half of the flower. 

“Watch, if you slide the part up, it blooms.” 

Your joined hands disappeared as the paper expanded. You heard her take a sharp breath. Her eyes were slowly moving from the flower to your face. Her eyes met yours, an you were shocked to find her eyes were glassy with tears. You lowered your eyes, woefully.

“Are you alright? I didn’t mean to upset you. You can just throw--,” your words were cut short as her hand cupped your face. Your breathing hitched as the pounding of your heart increased exponentially. She smiled, and leaned her forehead against your own briefly before sitting back. Her hand remained cupping your cheek, and expression on her face was undeniably affectionate. The warmth you had been feeling all evening grew exponentially. 

“I love it; it is beautiful. I have never received anything like this...”

She stroked her thumb along your jawline, Her eyes dipped your mouth, she hesitated before running her thumb slowly over your bottom lip. You just barely managed to control the yearning sigh that threatened to escape. Her voice lowered to a murmur.

“You are so very lovely, to me..., do you know that?”

“Yes...,” you were breathless.“And as I told you before, you are exquisite.”  
You reached up to mirror her actions the last time you were in this situation. As you laced your fingers together, you pressed your lips delicately on the inside of her wrist. You could feel her pulse jump as she bit her lip. You held your breath, awaiting her next move.

You both jumped from where you were at the sudden loud crack from the fireplace. The moment was broken as you stood and Venable jumped in her seat. She looked towards the hearth and for once, you could not read her expression. “That is the third time today.” She looked back at you and stood, motioning to the door. “It is getting rather late, dear. You should probably take your leave.” 

She sounded more like she was trying to convince herself rather than you. 

The disappointment on your face must have been obvious. As she un latched the door, she reached out to grab your hand. 

“Same time next week, then?” her voice was hopeful and you finally let out the breath you were holding. You laced your fingers together, giving her hand a quick squeeze before leaning down to respond. 

“It’s a date.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left feedback so far. You are all amazing and I don't deserve any of you!
> 
> As always, my everlasting gratitude to @et-pacis on tumblr. If it were not for her, I doubt I would have gotten this far.

-Chapter 3-

 

“You’re cheating!”

For the first time since these weekly card games began, Venable had soundly beaten you. Your nights of best of five had become best of ten. The games progressed from go fish, to spades, and she had just now, miraculously bested you at 66. To call the look on her face smug was the understatement of the year. 

“So let me get this right,” she points an accusing finger at your chest, you innocently take a sip of your tea. 

“When you are winning, everything is copacetic. When I win, suddenly I am ‘cheating’?” She laughs, and pretend to consider your response carefully. You thoughtfully rub your chin before batting her finger away. 

“Exactly. There is no other explanation. What did you do, stack the deck? Count the cards? Tell me your secrets.”

She ignores your statement, instead leaning back to adjust her position in her chair as she steeples her fingers. “You have to answer a question of mine. You already know so much about me, it is finally my turn.”

It was true. You so often emerged victorious that you had to began to think she was throwing the games, Funnily enough after you had accused her of such, her losing streak ended. However you had learned facts about her that only charmed her to you more. Her favorite food was chocolate covered strawberries. She hated lima beans. When she was a child, she had a pet turtle named Albert and she cried when it died. You loved finding this information out. However, you recently began to want to ask her more personal questions, deeply personal ones. 

Did she think of you as much as you thought of her? Did she dream of you at night? Did she wake, breathless and wanting at the thought of her lips on yours, her hands on your skin?

The more time the two of you spent together, alone like this, the harder it was becoming to restrain yourself. You thought about kissing her more often than you probably should. 

Better then, that she had won this round. 

She grins and you smile. “Fine, but you better make it good.”

You cross your legs, leaning your shoulder against the arm of the chair, simply watching her. She had her hair loose once again. She tilted her head to the side in thought, absentmindedly running her fingers through her hair as she contemplated her query. “What was your childhood like?”

You sighed and dropped your gaze to the table. You placed the cup you were holding down and began to toy with the handle. 

“Well honestly, it wasn’t great. I never knew my birth mother. I was a foster kid from the jump. They just bounced me around from house to house. I was never in one place too long, and I didn’t make friends very easily. I guess I was lucky since I used to hear some real horror show stories from some other kids in the system...anyway, I eventually aged out. I found my real dad, and we got to reconnect briefly before he passed away. He left me enough to buy the shop and keep food on my table. I just...never really thought I’d find anyone that cared enough to stick around. I’ve always been...quite lonely.”

You pause, your voice breaking a bit as you rub the tears away. Venable lays her open palm on the table between you. Without hesitation, you place your hand in hers. She strokes the back of your hand with her thumb tenderly as she speaks.

“You are very strong, stronger than you think. I know what it is like to feel as if you have no one.”

You smile, slowly, squeezing her hand. “Thank you.”

She takes a deep breath. “And you must know, that I have come to care for you...very much." 

She is looking at you through half lidded eyes, there is a shyness to her at this moment that you had never seen before, never thought you would see. The immutable leader you frequently witnessed around the compound had vanished. The woman holding your hand right now was the most real, most beautiful person you had ever witnessed. Something inside your brain shifted; came into agreement with what you had been feeling in your heart for quite some time now. 

You slowly stood, watching as her eyes followed your movements carefully. You came to stand beside her, holding out your hand. The fingers of her free hand laced with yours as she rose to her feet. 

“I care about you, too. I think about you almost constantly. I feel like I found somewhere that I belong...when I am with you.”

You reach out, softly running your fingers over her jawline. You can see her swallow, she whispers, meeting your eyes. 

“What do you think of, when you think of me?” 

You notice her gaze has dropped to your lips. You reflexively lick your lips, and she mirrors your action. The tension between you is suffocating. You feel something brighten in your chest; something new, something nurtured from the day you arrived, from the day you met, even if you didn’t know it.

“This.”

You lean down, slowly enough that she has ample time to move away; to protest your actions. She does neither, instead you feel her shiver in anticipation, moving to meet you halfway.

Your lips just barely touch at first. You want this desperately, but you need to know she wants this too. You need to know she feels the same. 

You feel her sigh, the hand that isn’t holding her cane comes to rest on your waist. Her grip is light yet possessive. She pulls you closer, pressing her lips to yours more fully, and that light in your chest flares to life. 

She kisses you once, twice. They are innocent, as sweet as she is. Still so shy. You smile against her lips, you cannot help yourself. The giggle bubbles out before you can stop it. 

She pulls away enough that you can see her face. She has an eyebrow cocked, the incredulous look on her face causes you to grin, biting your lip in amusement.

“What? What is it?” 

“It’s nothing, really. You are just...so..” You press another quick kiss to her lips. She smirks at you. You feel like laughing again, but you manage to hold it in. 

“Do you have any idea, any at all, how long I’ve been wanting to do that?”

She laughs again, pulling you towards her by hooking a finger through your belt loop. Her lips linger on yours longer this time. You can feel the hand at your waist slip to the small of your back. Your heart soars.

“Since I quoted Byron to you in the library?” 

You snort, placing your own hand on her hip, smoothing your fingers over the silky fabric of her robe. 

“Definitely then, if not sometime before. You made me so nervous!”

“You think I had an easy time, still have an easy time, trying to keep my attention from you? You drive me to distraction. ” She presses her lips together, as if she has slipped in telling you this. 

“Do I? And how do I do that?” 

“Your eyes, I feel you watching me, always. Your voice, when you read at night I can’t--, oh...” Her words lapse as you press your lips below her ear, peppering kisses across her jawline. She tilts her head back to give you better access and falls silent. You press a slow kiss to her mouth, nipping her bottom lip as you pull away. She bites her lip, and her eyes remain closed. You place your mouth next to her ear, grinning as you murmur a question to her. 

“Am I doing it right now?”

Her eyes snap open and a deep flush reddens her cheeks as she chuckles. She swats your hands away from her waist, and kisses you once more before stepping away. She reaches down to take her cup off of the table, taking a long draught of the tea that has gone cold long ago. She points at you after she returns the cup to its saucer, shaking her finger as you. “You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?” 

You shrug, rolling your shoulders. “Wasn’t it your idea for me to read at night? What did you call it? Oh, yes, ‘cultural enrichment’. As you so frequently tell us, you make the rules here.”

She laughs again as she takes her seat, you perch yourself on the arm of her chair. You lean in and run your fingers across her temple and through her hair gently. She places her hand over yours, bringing your hand to her lips. She presses a chaste kiss to your open palm. “Would it surprise you to know that particular idea was not mine. I was against it; I despise spending any more time than I must with those useless buffoons. To listen to them drone on about, talk shows and gossip magazines. Who is bickering with whom. It gives me a headache. Ms. Meade is the one who came up with it.” 

“What made you change your mind about it?”

“Would you believe me if I said a pretty girl I met in the library?”, she cast a sidelong look at you, and you grinned. 

“I just might.”

She shifts again in the chair again, and you realize that she may be uncomfortable in such a position for so long. You had never spoken directly about her disability, but you could sometimes tell when she was aching. She seemed to be now. As much as you would like to stay, you took this as your cue to leave. You held out your hand to her. “Would you care to walk me to the door, Ms. Venable?”

She stood and offered you her arm, and you both laughed. “How very proper of you!”

You walked to the door slowly. She stroked your fingers where they lay in the crook of her elbow when you stopped before the door. She shifted you both so that she was leaning against the old oak door. You opened your mouth to speak, to thank her for the evening. However before you could get a word out she wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against her. The fact that she was using the door as support meant that her other hand had become free. her fingers caressed your cheek, sliding back through your hair. She cupped the back of your head as her fingernails grazed the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck. She brought your lips together, with more intent this time. 

For a moment, you were overwhelmed. Every place that your bodies touched felt like fire; her possessive hold on you made your skin tingle. 

She ran her tongue over your bottom lip, turning her head to deepen the kiss. She was kissing you slowly, languidly, and it was driving you wild. Your head was spinning, you had no idea kissing her like this would be so deliciously intense. 

You kissed her back, noting with satisfaction the moment her lips parted to grant you access, she moaned. You could not help but moan in return, not only for the kiss but for the fact that you had just made Wilhemina Venable moan in your arms. 

She seemed unable to keep her hands still, as they both slipped around your waist. She drug her fingers lightly down your back. You cling to her waist, stepping forward to pull her even closer. A crack and the rattle of something rolling across the floor interrupts the moment. She is laughing; her face is flushed and her hair tousled. You must have a questioning look on your face because she reaches up to gently turn your head. Her cane is lying a few feet from you. One or both of you had knocked it down during your kiss. You joined her in laughter, pressing your lips to her cheek after a moment. 

“Will you be alright if I get that for you?” 

She nods, and you carefully disentangle yourself from her. You take two steps into the room, leaning down to pick up her cane. You stand and turn, the sight you find makes something ache pleasantly inside you. 

She is leaning fully against the door. Her hands are at her sides. She is looking at you with what looks an awful lot like adoration mixed with a good bit of lust. He eyes sparkle as your approach her, holding the object out to her. She takes it in her hand. 

“Thank you, Y/N. For everything.”

You reach up to cup her face with your hands, placing a kiss on her forehead and another on her lips. 

“No need to thank me, darling. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

She beams at you and you’ve never seen anything so beautiful in your life. You look down for a moment. 

“I don’t think I can wait a week to see you again.” While you saw her daily, you craved these moments alone. You imagined you would even more so now. 

She thought for a moment, then held up a finger. “ You can help me take stock of the supply run tomorrow. I usually have Ms. Meade helping me, but she will be otherwise preoccupied. I did tell her I would find someone to assist me. If you think you would enjoy being alone with me for a few hours?”

“I think I can manage that. I’ll see you in the morning?”

She nods, pulling you in for one more quick kiss before you depart. You can feel her smiling against your lips. 

“It’s a date.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes before this chapter...as it says in the tags, I consider this fic to be canon divergent. No witches, no langdon, no food shortage. If I had to place it time wise, it would be the earlier days of the outpost instead of the later days we see on the show. 
> 
> @et-pacis is my hero. as always.
> 
> For extra humor as you are reading, imagine Meade as Shirley Crain at the wedding. I used her as a reference, and if you have seen the Netflix series, you will hopefully get a chuckle. 
> 
> Anyway, on with the show.

As you leaned against the pillar in the common area the next morning, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The events of the previous night were still fresh in your mind and you ad gotten little sleep. Another grey had told you as your were eating your breakfast that you were to meet Ms. Venable in an hours time. She asked if you were in trouble and you shrugged. You managed to keep your face neutral, thanked the other woman and continued eating, hiding your smile behind the toast you were holding. You’d only made it forty five minutes before the prospect of seeing her got the better of you and you made your way here. 

Apparently you were not alone in feeling such anticipation, as you soon heard the distinctive sounds of what could only be Venable approaching you. She stopped before you, momentarily, long enough for you to see her flash you a half smile. She turned from you, calling over her shoulder. “If you will follow me, Miss Y/N.” 

You fell in step just behind her, earning yourself some sympathetic looks from the few others you passed. She led you down a series of hallways you were unfamiliar with and through a locked iron door. After she shut it behind her and fastened the latch, she stepped towards you, smiling softly. She placed the candelabra in an alcove on the wall as she reached out to cup your cheek. At the anxious look on your face, she chuckled.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Meade and I are the only ones with access to this area. No one will stumble upon us here. However, I do believe that it is better to keep certain...activities private. Do you agree?”

You nodded, raising your hand to brush your fingers across the back of hers. 

“That is probably for the best.” She made a move to pull away and you quickly covered her hand with yours. “Is it bad to say that I missed you?”

You love watching her expression go all soft when you say something she enjoys, and it happens again now. She runs her fingers through the hair at your temple, grinning as she does so. 

“No, darling. I couldn’t sleep for missing you, and hoping morning would come soon so that I would have a chance to be with you again. Shall we get to work?”

You nod dumbly, as her words cause a warmth to glow in your chest. You have no response. She takes the torch in her hand and leads you into a storeroom bigger than the library. Shelves and crates line the walls and floor, neatly organized and documented in books next to them. There is an antechamber next to the entrance, and this is where you see two wooden chests in the middle of the floor. They look as if they had been through a great deal to get here and you supposed they had, given the state of things outside. As you took in your surroundings, Venable retrieved a massive leather bound book from a cabinet to off to the side. She places it next to her on a stainless steel table, motioning for you to come to her side. You inspect the handwriting on the pages, one is Venable’s and the other must be Meade’s. 

“What is that?”

She is leafing through the pages as she explains. 

“This is how we keep track of our inventory. We receive shipments monthly, and take stock of them here. There are a set amount of items we are to receive each time, and often there are some extras.” She reaches a blank page, uncapping the pen in her free hand. “You can start with that one, if you like.” She inclines her head towards the crate closest to you. You step towards the battered box, picking up the crowbar next to it. As you work to free the lid, you look back towards her. 

“So you’re saying you know what the date is?”

She looks up from writing something and gives you a half shrug. “We don’t know an exact date, no. We know when we arrived here, and these shipments arrive like clockwork, so we have an idea.”

You pop the cover off with a triumphant whoop only to find a layer of thin metal covering the contents. “And what’s this for?”

Shes watching you with that fond look again, and you cock your head to the side. 

“It is a certain blend of metal that prevents irradiation. At one time I could tell you the composition, but I no longer recall.” She pauses as you lift it out to expose the contents underneath. You lift out crates of freeze dried meats and vegetables, powered substances, all manner of edible items. Venable makes note of each and directs you in placing each item in a certain area. Every so often as you pass behind her, you touch her shoulder, her hip. You graze your fingers down her arm at one point and catch her watching you tenderly. She does an admirable job keeping focused, however, which is for the best as you’d hate to be the reason people starve here. 

As you reach the bottom of the second crate, you pull the top off of a thick rubber box. Inside are bottles of wine and large bars of chocolate. Your eyes widen, and you stand up to call out to your companion. 

“Come look at this! You’re gonna love it.”

She places her pen down, picking up her cane from its resting place against the table. She comes to stand by your side as you pull out a bottle of wine and one of the chocolate bars. “Can you believe this? I forgot about chocolate. Man, do I miss this.”  
As you are gushing over the unexpected find you notice that Venable is not nearly as excited. You inquire as to the change in her mood and she frowns. 

“I would imagine that these...embellishments, are due to it being close to Valentine’s Day.”

“Why is that bad? We have wine, and enough chocolate for everyone! Hell, I could probably eat all of this myself. Do you not like Valentine’s Day?” 

Venable had returned her ledger, making note of the boon you’d found. As you crossed the room to stand across from her she looked up. She placed the pen down as her words came out in a rush. 

“It was an unnecessary holiday before, candy and flowers and useless cards, and for what? Because of a day designed by Hallmark to make money? Whyever should we continue to celebrate such a...waste, of resources and time?”

She has thrown her hands up in frustration to drive her point home, and you are watching her with your chin in your hands. She is so damn cute. 

“Because.”

She is looking at you expectantly. “And why is that?”

“Because February 15th is my birthday. And also...,” you slide your hand across the table to entwine your fingers. She calms at your touch, leaning towards you. You whisper conspiratorially. “...I love Valentine’s Day. I think it is so romantic. Candles and chocolates and lovely gifts.” You squeeze her hand, tugging her a bit closer towards you. The table between you makes it difficult, but you are close enough now to look into her eyes. “Maybe we could change your mind?”

She is smiling now, biting her lip in the most attractive way. 

“We can absolutely try.”

You stay like that for a few long moments, staring at each other like a couple of teenagers. You’ve never felt like this in your life, and for a moment you think you might tell her that. You take a breath, but someone clearing their throat causes the two of you to jerk apart. Standing in the doorway is Ms. Meade. You can feel the blood rush to your face, thankful for the low lighting. Venable makes no move to give herself or you away. 

“Ms. Meade. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Meade’s eyes slide from Ms. Venable towards you and back again. She raises her eyebrows slightly. 

“Clearly.”

There is a long pause, the two of them holding one another’s gaze. You begin to feel increasingly uncomfortable, busying yourself with picking up scraps of packaging material off of the floor. 

“We have received some wine this month, as well as chocolate, however I doubt if we should allow them to imbibe. What do you think, Ms. Meade?”

It seems Venable is attempting to gloss over the whole situation. Meade motions towards the door. “May I speak to you outside?”

Venable closes the book, sliding it in your direction. “Miss Y/N, return this to the cabinet next to the door. Replace the lids on the crates as well, I will return.” 

You pick up one of the lids, doing as instructed. “Yes, Ms. Venable.”

Meade and Venable exit the room, and you release the breath you’d been holding. How much did she see? How much did she hear? How did she get in here without making a sound? Shit. 

You can hear them talking as you cover the second crate. You pick up the book on the table and silently make your way to the cabinet, opening it carefully. From here, you can just make out what they are saying. Meade is the one speaking at the moment. 

“Enough about that. Are you going to elaborate on this?”

Venable responds, her voice is neutral. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do. Why is the librarian here?”

“She was available and you were not. As you well know, I cannot unload those myself.” She raps her cane on the floor to make her point. 

“You seem to be quite fond of each other. Is there anything I should know?”

You can hear the irritation in Venable’s voice as she responds. “I am positive you are already aware of the level of idiocy that seems to run rampant here. She is intelligent; I don’t feel as if my IQ is lowering by speaking to her. I am allowed that, am I not?”

“I think...that if someone were to find someone that they connect with in this place, something or someone that they enjoy, they should take pleasure in it.”

You balk at Meade’s choice of words as a very graphic vision of you and Venable pleasuring one another flashes across your mind. The thought causes you to feel a smoldering in your belly. You pull on your collar, suddenly this room is far too hot. 

There is another lull in their conversation, and you hear Venable finally speak. Her voice has lost the annoyed edge it had a moment ago. 

“Will that be all, then, Ms. Meade?”

You shut the cabinet door as quietly as you can, shuffling over to the opposite side of the table, clasping your hands behind you. You rock back and forth on your heels while you wait for them to return, hoping it will dispel some of your nervous energy. 

Venable passes the room, her eyes meet yours. 

“Come.”

She heads down the hallway you came from, Meade motions for you to walk in front of her. 

You bite the inside of your cheek at her choice of word, falling into line between them.You keep your eyes downcast, lest Meade see you staring, as the three of you exit the storage area. 

Venable turns to you, as Meade appears to be waiting for her. She clears her throat. 

“Thank you, you may return to your duties.” Her back is toward Meade, and before she turns, Venable gives you a quick wink. You keep your face unreadable, nodding as you turn to walk away. Once you turn the corner of the hallway, you allow yourself to smile. 

\------

Much to your dismay, that is the last time the two get alone for two weeks. Granted, you still see each other after dinner. Venable stops in the library when she can. She does not give you an explanation for canceling your dates, but she does squeeze your hand across your desk and assure you it is out of her control. You are not worried, but waiting so long to kiss her again is beginning to grate your nerves. You keep yourself busy and it works too well today. You glance at the clock and notice that you have little time to get to the dining hall. You push around some papers on your desk, finding the book of Byron poems someone had recently returned. You smirk, tucking it under your arm and hurriedly making your way upstairs. 

As you enter the room, you notice the empty wine glasses on the table and in some of the guests hands. Meade must have convinced Venable to allow the treat, as she sat to her right at the table holding one of her own. Venable glanced towards you and you saw her small smile behind her wineglass. Meade followed Venable’s gaze to you and raised her eyebrows, mimicking the last time you had seen her. You coughed and looked down, acting as if you were looking through notes in your book. 

Venable had the group well trained, as when they saw you they took their seats in the living area. You had ear marked a few pages, saving your favorite for last. 

The first two passages you managed to read without incident. Meade seemed to be paying less attenion to you, however, as Venable poured herself another glass she met your eyes and smiled at you. With teeth. As Meade happened to be leaning over to speak to her. You stumbled on your words, and Meade looked between the two of you again. No one seemed to notice this exchange other than the three of you. Meade met your eyes. If she suspected anything, she gave no indication. You continued, uninterrupted, for the next half hour. 

As your hour came to an end, you shifted back and forth on your feet. You were beginning to think reading this particular poem was a bad idea. Venable seemed to be having difficulty keeping her admiring gaze away from you. To anyone casually observing, they would have noticed nothing. The way Meade was squinting in your direction, however, made you think she was beginning to get suspicious. 

You began, 

_She walks in beauty, like the night_  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that’s best of dark and bright  
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;  
Thus mellowed to that tender light  
Which heaven to gaudy day denies. 

Venable’s attention was immediately focused on you. She rested her chin in her hand. The man that had been speaking to her seemed oblivious to her lost interest. 

 

_One shade the more, one ray the less,_  
Had half impaired the nameless grace  
Which waves in every raven tress,  
Or softly lightens o’er her face;  
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,  
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. 

She had her fingers of one hand curled around the stem of her wineglass. With her other hand, she was lazily running her finger over the rim. She was chewing lightly on her lip as she did this. The look in her eyes made a flash of heat course through you. 

Meade was definitely figuring something out, you could see the wheels turning in her head as she studied you and Venable. You rushed to finish the poem. 

 

_And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,_  
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,  
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,  
But tell of days in goodness spent,  
A mind at peace with all below,  
A heart whose love is innocent! 

You stopped speaking, a few of the others clapped as the hour chimed. The rest of the room emptied. Meade pushed her chair out and stood. Venable did the same, and you were unsure what move to make. Venable made the decision for you as she crossed the room quickly, stopping before you. Meade was far enough behind her that you don’t think she heard Venable whisper to you in a hushed tone. “My room. Tonight. Give me half an hour.” 

She turned on her heel and strode to meet Meade. You held the book to your chest as Meade regarded you with an expression you couldn’t decipher.

It made no matter to you. As you made your way back to your room to prepare, you smiled to yourself. 

You knew she wouldn't be able to resist Byron.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are enjoying my chapter dump. I don't get to write as much during the week as I would like to, so on the weekends I write whenever I can. This is the last one for a few days at least.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Lex. You are the best, and whiskey me gives you many thanks. So does regular me,
> 
> My deepest thanks to those of you who have taken the time to comment and message me with words of encouragement and support. I'm very humbled by the way my little story has touched so many.

Thirty excruciatingly long minutes later, you rounded the corner to the hallway where Venable’s suite was located. You stopped before her door, passing your hands over the fabric of your shirt a few times. Your palms were clammy; you had butterflies swarming in your stomach at the thought of being alone with her again. 

You knocked twice before the door opened and you entered. You turned, coming face to face with Venable. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the woman before you. 

She was dressed differently this time, her usual attire had been replaced with a regal purple bodice over a light colored shirt. Her hair was back in a low ponytail; she was looking at you hungrily, but made no move to approach you. You smiled, she seemed as nervous as you did. The thought of the two of you acting like this made you snort. You took one step towards her, and she took one towards you. You were now an arm’s length away, and you reached out to touch the material of her top. You suddenly felt underdressed as the only thing you’d done to prepare is pull your hair up in a high ponytail. 

“You look lovely. I never told you, but purple is my favorite color.”

She laughs sharply, shaking her head as she slips an arm around your waist. You drape your arms around her shoulders as she pulls you closer to her. Right before you meet in a kiss, she murmurs against your lips. 

“Mine too.”

You grin and share a long overdue kiss; she tastes very faintly of the wine she drank at dinner, and you pull away slowly when the kiss ends. She is looking at you with such adoration, it makes your heart skip in your chest. She is the first to speak.

“I have missed you, terribly. This has been too long.” Her arm tightens around your waist.

You lean your forehead against hers as your fingers brush the nape of her neck. She closes her eyes and hums contentedly as you speak. 

“We’ve seen each other every day, but I agree...I missed you, I missed this.” 

You kiss her forehead, her cheek, her lips. You spend another minute kissing, her free hand splays across your back as she tries to pull you closer. You break the kiss, and to your amusement she actually pouts. 

“Are you going to invite me to sit down, Ms. Venable?”

She grins at you, and leads you to the sofa across from the fire. You take note of two boxes on the table, along with a bottle of wine you recognize from the supply room, poured into two glasses. Your eyebrows raise inquisitively. 

“What is all this?”

She gives you a sheepish smile, looking towards the fire for a moment before returning her gaze to you. 

“I guess you will have to sit down and see, won’t you?”

You laugh and take your seat. She takes a seat next to you, handing you the first box. 

“Happy birthday, darling.”

You have always been a sucker for presents, and you kiss her quickly before opening the box to find two bars of chocolate. Your face lights up. 

“No shit! You remembered?!” 

“You only queried me several times a week regarding the fate of your beloved chocolate. How could I have forgotten; you’d never let me!”

You grinned, turning the bar over in your hands. 

“Can we have some?”

She chuckles, placing her hand on your knee. “If you’d like. It is yours, after all.”

You tore the wrapper off half of the first bar, popping a piece in your mouth. You made a very undignified, indulgent noise as the candy melted on your tongue. You broke off another section, holding it out to her. 

“You gotta try this, its so good!”

She wrapped her slender fingers around your wrist and brought your hand to her mouth. She took the sweet from your fingers with her teeth. Her eyes slid shut, breathing deeply, as she savored the snack. After a moment, her gaze met yours and she licked her lips. 

“Delicious.”

You were speechless, looking from your hand to her mouth, wondering how every move this woman made managed to fluster you like this. As she noticed this reaction of yours, a smug smirk crossed her countenance. You reached blindly for your beverage and downed half the glass in one swig. She was laughing now, apparently taking pity on you for the moment. 

She picked up the second box, motioning for you to hold out your hand. You did so and she placed the rectangular box in your palm. She had moved closer to you on the sofa, and was now watching you expectantly. You lifted the lid and brought your hand to your chest in shock. 

Inside the box lay a necklace with a simple silver chain; an amethyst gemstone inlaid in silver rested at the bottom. For the second time in minutes, you were speechless. 

“Where did..., how did you...?” 

She took the box from your hands and laid it back on the table. She lifted the jewelry from its container as she spoke. 

“I brought this with me, I had quite a collection from before. I couldn’t bear to part with some of them. This piece is a part of a set and, if you would have it, it is yours. For when we are apart, there will always be a part of me...with you. ”

Her bravado from before has vanished, and she holds the necklace in her palm. You lightly take her chin and kiss her, softly, as you feel tears gathering in your eyes. 

“Thank you...I love it, its beautiful.” 

You kiss her again, cupping her cheek in your hand as you pull away. She is looking at you with such powerful emotion, you feel as if your heart may burst. As your thumb strokes her cheekbone, you suddenly notice the earrings she is wearing. They bear an uncanny similarity to the necklace she has just bestowed upon you. The smile that comes to your face does not go unnoticed by her. She presses her lips together bashfully, as you voice the thought in your head. You gingerly touch the earring, then caress the area behind her ear with the back of your fingers. 

“Would these earrings happen to be...part of a set?”

She nods, biting her lip. “Is that...acceptable to you?”

She seems timid, as if she is almost expecting you to say no. 

“Of course it is, that makes it even more special...to share something like this. You are so wonderful.”

She smiles, leaning across to kiss you, and you sense the trepidation leave her. She relaxes, and you touch the pedant in her hand.   
“Would you put this on me?”

She beams and nods, and you lift your hair and tilt your head to the side. Her arms encircle your shoulders and she works to secure the clasp. You watch her, noting with a great deal of amusement that the tip of her tongue sticks out between her lips as she concentrates. She fastens the clasp and you expect her to pull away, however she brings her hand up to turn your shoulder slightly. She traces a finger across the shadow visible under the edge of your shirt. 

“What is that? Do you have a tattoo? May I see it?”

You nod, pulling your shirt down a bit to try and give her a better view. You realize she can probably only see part of it due to the way you are sitting. She moves away from you and you stand, beginning to unbutton your shirt. Her eyes widen at your actions, and her mouth opens and closes, yet she makes no sound. You hesitate, your hands stop at the third button of your blouse. You realize with a deep blush the reason for her reaction. Neither of you has seen any skin to this point, and you unthinkingly almost stripped without an explanation. 

“I have to at least do this, if you want to see it. It’s between my shoulder blades. Do...you--, I mean, is that okay?”

Her voice is soft as she answers you.

“Yes.”

Her eyes dip to the bit of your bra that is already exposed as she folds her hands in her lap. You can hear her nervous swallow from here. You turn your back towards her and take your seat again. You are thankful you can no longer see her eyes, because the obvious hunger so blatantly displayed in them was playing dangerously with your self control. 

You hear her breath hitch, and you feel her fingertips smooth across the moth between your shoulders. You feel her move closer behind you, and her other hand comes up to draw light touches across your back. You are not sure, but you think you can feel her soft exhalations on your skin. You close your eyes and bite your lip, harder than necessary, to stop yourself from leaning back into her touch. 

“It’s lovely...what does it mean to you?”

You open your eyes and look down, your hands clasped together in your lap. 

“I told you that my father and I were fortunate enough to spend some time together, after we had reconnected?”

She makes an affirmative noise, but she does not interrupt you. Her fingers continue tracing the outline of your tattoo. 

“Well, he was an entomology professor at a university, about twenty minutes away from my last foster parent’s home. It was kind of funny, I had given up on finding anything out about my parents. The records from the hospital my birth mother left me at were shoddy at the absolute best. I had hardly anything to go on, and I just...gave up. One day not long after, I stopped at a coffee cart near the apartment of a woman I was seeing. I had forgotten my wallet, and the man behind me offered to pay. When he looked into my eyes, I swear I felt a connection. He later told me he did too. We sat and discussed our lives, and found there were striking parallels between us.”

You smiled broadly at the memory, and you pressed your palms together. 

“Have you ever met someone, and though you know nothing about them, you felt in your heart that they will be important to you?”

Her hands pause their ministrations, and you hear her murmur, so softly you hardly hear it.

“...yes.”

You clear your throat and continue, feeling something tug at your heart at the way she answered you. As you begin to speak again, you realize her hands are touching you softly beyond the outline of your tattoo. You feel goose bumps race across your body. 

“Well, we became friends and eventually decided to take a paternity test. I think that...we both knew the day we met what the results would be, but to actually have it on paper that--that he was really my dad, and we found each other...” your voice catches, and tears slip from your eyes. The woman behind you curls her arm around your waist. She shifts, moving to press her lips to your temple. This action calms you enough to continue. Her chin rests on your shoulder.

You cover her hand with yours, and her fingers toy absently with a button on your shirt. You lean back into her, and she nuzzles your neck. 

“Before he got sick, I lived with him, he had a huge deck on his house. We would sit outside at night and talk well into the morning. He was some kind of bug whisperer, they would almost swarm him and he loved it. I asked him once, if he had a favorite insect. He said it was like trying to pick a favorite star in the sky. He eventually narrowed it down to Lepidoptera after I bothered him enough. I got this the week after he passed.”

You fall silent, and Venable whispers against your ear, her voice is low. 

“Thank you, for sharing that with me. You were fortunate to have him.”

You both sit in comfortable silence for minutes, and your melancholy mood dissolves away. 

Now, you can definitely feel her breath on your neck. She is drawing lazy circles on your clothed abdomen and you want so much to feel her touch on your skin again. You take a breath and hold it, popping the button shed been playing with earlier open. On the next pass of her fingers, they came into contact with your skin. It was a soft touch, her fingertips barely grazed your skin, but you heard her breath catch hard. 

You released the breath you’d been holding, only to gasp as her lips touched your neck, just below your ear. She then pressed a series of light, almost shy kisses down your neck and across your shoulder. Finally she placed her lips between your shoulders, in the center of your tattoo. For the umpteenth first time this evening, you were breathless, but this time you couldn’t ignore it. You slowly extracted yourself from her embrace and turned around to face her. 

The sight before you was indescribably sexy. She looked up at you through hooded eyes, and you could see her breath coming in short pants. She held out her hand to you, licking her lips. You spoke softly, taking into consideration her condition before you took any action. You could hardly believe you were asking her this question. Your voice sounded foreign, even to yourself. It was low and husky with the desire you felt for her.   
“If I, if I straddle you, will that cause you any--,”

She shook her head no vigorously before you could even finish the thought. You carefully straddled her, and she leaned back into the pillows she had positioned behind her. Her eyes fell to your mostly unbuttoned blouse, and she looked up at you, questioning. 

Your hands came up to unbutton the remaining few, and she put her hands over yours as you undid the last one. 

“You’re trembling.”

You leaned down to kiss her as she slid her hands up your bare torso. She pushed off your shirt in one smooth motion. You gasped against her mouth as she kissed you, and she moaned low in her throat in response. Her hands slid up your back, then down again to draw her finger nails down your spine, and you hissed with pleasure. You pull her hair from the tie it is in, pressing kisses across her throat as you run your fingers through her hair. You tug on it lightly and she gasps. You feel her hips move below you as she pulls you back to her mouth. 

Your lips met again and again, each time more insistently. You were intoxicated by this, by the feel of her, the taste of her. Judging by the noises she was making beneath you, the feeling was mutual. 

Just as her fingers slid tantalizingly slowly under the bra strap on your back, there was a loud knock at the door. 

You sat up like a shot and Venable met your eyes in a panic. You scramble off of her, she clears her throat and calls out. 

“Who is it?” 

The answering response from the opposite side of the door makes you throw your hands up in frustration.

“It’s Meade. You asked me to come and give you the perimeter reports from this morning.”

Venable pinches the bridge of her nose, and bends down to search for her cane. “Just a moment.”

You snap your fingers and gesture to the other side of the chair, she reaches for it and stands. You are searching for your shirt as she begins to make her way to the door. You grab your blouse from the floor and before you have a chance to put it on, she motions for you to stand beside her bed. You realize that the door will block any view of you Meade may have. 

You hear Venable cough to cover the laugh that slips from her lips as you roll across the bed and crouch on the floor beside it. You give her a thumbs up and grin. She attempts to smooth her hair down and adjusts her top. You watch her posture change as she reaches for the door. The wanton woman you were just necking with on her couch has become the stern leader once again. She pulls the door open, just enough. 

“Yes, I had forgotten. Something else came up. Thank you Ms. Meade.”

From your place near the door, you can hear Meade’s responses. You hear paper shuffling as she hands a file to Venable.

“Is everything alright?” The tone of Meade’s voice seems to indicate your presence here is not entirely unknown. You peek up over the side of the bed, she cannot see you but she must be able to see the items on the table from earlier. 

“Yes fine, everything is fine.”

You move to get off of your knees and bump the bedside table behind you. It scoots back, hitting the wall with a thud and you grimace. Venable leans around the door and when she see you, you realize Meade will notice the smile that slips onto Venable’s face.   
You hear a sharp laugh, and Venable snaps back to face her. You hear Meade’s voice lower, but you are still able to hear. 

“She’s in there, isn’t she? You’re on a date!” You hear what sound like the sound of Meade’s palm hitting her knee. “I knew it, I knew it all along!” Her tone is not unkind, but amused. You rub the bridge of your own nose now. What an interesting development. 

Venable ignores her comment.

“That will be all, Ms. Meade.” She moves to close the door, and Mead raises her voice to make the following statement. You’re certain it is directed towards you. “Indeed. One more thing , if anyone were to spend the night in quarters that were not their own, I would suggest returning to where they belong before the entire outpost is awake!”

Venable raises her voice in return, repeating around the door as she shuts it. “Yes, thank you Ms. Meade, that will be all!”

The door latches behind her, and you hear Meade chuckling as she departs. You just finish buttoning your blouse as Venable turns to face you. You cross the room to her side and put an arm around her. You kiss her cheek as she rubs her eyes and sighs.

“That actually went better than I expected. How long do you think she’s been onto us?”

“I’m sure I have no idea. Nothing gets past her, in the end. I assume it was only a matter of time.”

You follow her to her bed, she takes a seat on it and pats the space beside her. You sit next to her and take her hand. 

“Are you upset? Can we trust her?”

She answers without missing a beat. “We can absolutely trust her. I trust her with my life. If she had ill will towards you, you would be well aware of it.” She takes a breath, then. “And I am not upset. I am..” 

She considers her response, looking you over and glancing at the bed you both are sitting on. “I am quite ready to lay you down right here and ravish you. Right now. However...,”

You feel your cheeks burn and your eyebrows climb almost into your hairline. She takes both your hands in hers. 

“The career path I chose left me little time for any sort of...long term relationships, of any kind. I don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves, based on some...urges. I value our connection, I cherish what we have now. I don’t want to rush into anything, however much we may both want to.”

She ran her thumb along your knuckles, you turned your hand over so that she would stroke your palm. 

“And believe me, I want to. I just...” She entwined your fingers, you leaned your shoulder against hers. She trailed off, and you brought your clasped hands to your lips. You pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and met her eyes. 

“You want to take things slow?”

She nodded, worrying the corner of her lip. You smiled and kissed her lightly. 

“I agree, completely. We can go as slow as we want.”

She pulls your joined hands into her lap, drawing her fingers over the skin of your wrist.

“Thank you...,” she leans into you, and you bring your lips to hers again. This is different from before; where earlier you were both demanding and needy, you were now exchanging unhurried kisses at a languid pace. You smiled against her mouth, and she laughed. “I must say, this is...very nice.”

“Oh, I agree. You know I--,” you covered your mouth as you yawned loudly, and she snickered. 

“Tired? Big night?”

You nudged your shoulder playfully against hers once more, rubbing your eyes. Now that you thought about it, you were quite tired. You told her this and made a move to stand. She grabbed your arm as you stood, and looked up at you. She took a deep breath and spoke in a rush.

“Would you like to stay with me tonight? I would rather, that you didn’t leave? We can just sleep together. I don’t mean that, I mean...you know. Of course if you would like to leave, you can very well--”

You hooked your finger under her chin, leaning down to press a swift kiss to her lips. 

“I would love nothing more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reference I used for the necklace is here:   
> https://www.aliexpress.com/item/Women-Fashion-Simple-Multi-Colors-Water-Drop-Earrings-Set-AAA-Cubic-Zircon-Gold-Plated-Pendant-Necklace/32790731022.html
> 
> And the tattoo reference is here:   
> http://www.inspiringmode.com/neck-tattoos-females/butterfly-neck-tattoos-for-females/


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me if this seems rushed. I wanted to get it out before the finale this evening. Thanks again to everyone that has taken the time to comment and share this fic. You are the reason I keep writing. I love feedback!

Your first thought upon waking is that someone is in your bed. Your second thought is that this is not your bed, and upon noticing the arms around you, things fall into place. 

You had spent the night with Whilemina Venable. And all you did was sleep. The thought alone makes you smile and laugh silently to yourself. The arms around you loosen, and the fingers interlaced with yours twitch slightly. You wonder if she is still asleep and manage to turn yourself around in her arms. She is certainly still sleeping as her face is more relaxed than you have ever seen it. She is even more beautiful like this, and you hate to disturb her, but you need to get going. Meade did say to get back to your own room before everyone else rose for the day. According to the clock on the bedside table, you had an hour. 

You reach up to stroke her face, brushing your fingers across her cheek. 

“Hey...time to get up.”

She mumbles something and her arms tighten around you, bringing you closer. You could definitely get used to waking up like this, but it will have to wait for another day.

“Come on honey, I need to go...”

You lightly run your fingers through her hair, toying with the ends as you press a kiss to her lips. She stirs, taking a deep breath and opening her eyes. Her eyes are still so sleepy, and she is so damn cute it hurts. You smile at her. She returns your kiss, and  
murmurs against your lips. 

“Am I dreaming?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, and that wakes her up for real. Her eyes widen momentarily before she chuckles in return. She presses her lips to your cheek, then your mouth, pulling away a bit so she can sit up. You rest your head in your hand watching her. She takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You can’t help but tease her, just a bit. 

“So you dream about me, huh?” You grin as she rolls her eyes. She leans in to kiss you deeply, then moves to stand up. 

“I said nothing of the sort.”

She turns away from you to stand, and you flip over on your back beside her, tugging on her top. “You didn’t have to, the fact that even asked if you were dreaming,” you point at her accusingly, “means that it has happened at least once before! Am I right?”

She genially smacks your hand away as she gets to her feet. “Didn’t you say it was time for you to go?”

You flip over onto your stomach. “You know how you’re ignoring me? That is another indication that I’m right! You dream about me, just admit it! I’m your dream girl, aren’t I?” 

She smiles down at you, leaning down as if to kiss you. Just before your lips meet she moves so she pecks your cheek instead. “Come on, dream girl. I will see you out.”

“Is that you admitting it?” You laugh triumphantly as you get off of the bed to follow her. She meets you at the door. Her arm slides around your waist and you place your hands on her hips. She smiles slyly at you, backing you against the door. You feel slightly nervous at the predatory look in her eye. She moves so that your hands fall from her hips. She takes your hand and places it palm side down on the door. You do the same with your other hand, wondering what she is up to. 

“Would it please you for me to admit it?”

You nod. Your earlier bravado has vanished, you’re not sure where it went but if you had to guess, it fled when she started looking at you like a cat that caught the canary. 

“Very well...I suppose, on more than on occasion, you have been the subject of my dreams. Would you like to hear about it? Or,” she takes a step closer, pinning you to the door. She leans to whisper in your ear, “should I show you?”

“Yes, please...”

Your mouth has gone dry, you hear her chuckle next to your ear. She runs her tongue along your earlobe and you shudder. “There are rules, of course.”

This fact does not surprise you, but you still ask. 

“And they are?”

She is pressing kisses to your neck and you move to put your hands on her. She tugs on your ear lobe with her teeth. “No touching, if you disobey I will stop. Do you understand?”

“Yes." You hiss through your teeth, this dominant side of her is driving you crazy. 

“Good girl.” She runs her hands slowly down your sides, coming to rest on your hips. 

“I thought you said, no touching?”  
She is trailing kisses from your ear down your neck. She places her tongue against the pounding pulse point in your neck and you groan.

“That only applies to you, darling.” she trails a hand back up your body, placing a finger under your chin. She tips your head up to look you in the eye.

“I can touch you however much I want.”

She kisses you, hard, and you curl your fingers against the door. The urge to touch her is overwhelming but you don’t want her to stop. One hand slides around your waist, effectively sandwiching you between the door and her body. She keeps hitting a spot on your neck that makes you squirm, and she seems to have figured it out. She places her mouth on you, just there, and swipes her tongue across it while pressing her body against yours fully. You tip your head back and moan, and you can feel her answering moan against the skin of your neck. Your hands are fists at your sides, and you are practically panting.

She pulls back to look at you, and though she looks as flustered as you do, she is still grinning like the Cheshire cat. She steps away from you and tilts her head.

“Such a shame you have to go, isn’t it?”

You laugh ruefully and cross your arms. “You are a horrible tease.”

She shrugs, grinning. “You asked a question, I gave you an answer, did I not?”

“Yes but--,” she shuts you up as she cups your cheek and kisses you long and slow. You return her kiss and promptly forget what you were going to say. She steps back and her hand falls to the pendant on your chest. You cover her hand with yours.

“I’ll miss you.”

She kisses your forehead, your cheek, and then your lips. As her lips pass over yours, she whispers against your mouth. 

“And I you, darling. You really must go; I would take heed of Ms. Meade’s advice if we are to continue doing this.”

You slide an arm around her waist, pressing your lips to her neck, just below her ear. “Are you saying you want to spend the night together again soon?” You feel her laugh and run her fingers through your hair.

“Absolutely. Now go.” 

She brings your lips together one last time. She motions for you to exit her room after she quickly checks the hallway. You slip out of the door and begin to make your way back to your quarters. While wondering if you have time for a cold shower, you turn the last corner on the way to your room. To your absolute mortification, you come face to face with Ms. Meade. She stops in your path.

There is a pregnant pause as you feel blood come rushing to your face. Neither one of you moves. You watch a knowing smirk cross her features. You hold her gaze and clasp your hands behind your back. She addresses you first.

“Miss Y/N. You’re up early.”

You clear your throat. “I uh, couldn’t sleep.” You decide to leave it at that. 

“Indeed.”

She does not move. Neither do you. You feel like your face will burst into flames, when finally she nods and steps around you to continue her rounds. You release the breath you’d been holding and duck into the hallway leading to your quarters. You rub your face as you enter your room, flopping down on your bed to catch what shut eye you can before your alarm goes off. You sigh and smile to yourself.

What a night. 

\---

You manage to make it to the library on time, and your day goes by rather quickly. As you are attempting to fix the binding on a tattered copy of Charles Dickens, you notice one of the women from your area at your desk. She waves to you to catch your attention, and you walk over to help.

She hands you the book she wants, tapping her fingers on the desk as you take note of it. She looks around and leans down towards you.

“Did you hear what happened earlier?”

You don’t look up, making a note in your ledger. “I haven’t really seen anyone today, no. What happened?”

She takes the book from your hand as you look up. 

“Well, I guess there was a perimeter breach or something, and they let this family in. I heard Venable had them shot. There was even a kid with them. Its sad but I’m not surprised. She’s an awful woman from what I’ve heard.”

You manage to keep your face impassive. You almost snap the pencil in your hand, but catch yourself and take a breath. “Whatever she did, she probably had a reason, you know? She never struck me as impulsive, just to shoot someone for nothing.”

The girl before you shrugs. “I dunno, I’ve heard some crazy stuff about her. She never bothered me any so long as I stay out of her way. I better get going, I can’t be late to press those dresses again! See you!”

She waves and heads out towards the entrance of the library. You are trying your hardest not to get mad, but it is proving difficult. You knew she ran this place with an iron fist, you knew she would dole out punishments to those who violated her rules. You accepted that long ago. Killing a family outright, however, was not something you expected of her. 

The longer you thought about this, the more you could feel your blood pressure rising. How could she do that? You couldn’t rationalize this any way you tried. After glancing at the clock, you made a decision.

You left the library and made your way to the common area, where luckily no one was around to see you enter Venable’s office without knocking. 

She was seated at her desk, files open in front of her as she made notes in the margins. She glanced up at you and pushed her chair back. 

“As lovely as it is to see you, I really would prefer you knocked.” She notices that you are standing with your hands on your hips. She looks at your questioningly, her light tone changes.

“What is wrong?”

“I need you to answer something, truthfully. Will you do that?”

She nods, laying her pen down and folding her hands on the desk. 

“People are talking, they are saying you killed a family today?”

She sighs, her forehead furrowing as she rubs her temple. 

“Yes, it is true, however I killed no one. Ms. Meade was--,” she doesn’t finish her sentence as you cut her off. 

“Meade only does what you tell her to do! Why would you order her to kill a family? What is wrong with you?”

You approach her desk, she speaks in a low tone. 

“First, you will lower your voice. Do not come into my office in an attempt to cause some sort of scene. As for the events of this afternoon, I did what I had to do. I made the necessary call.”

You place your hands on her desk, your face is red and you can feel your hands shaking. 

“It was necessary to kill a child? When things like this happen, you need to address them, rumors fly like wildfire here! At least explain what happened.”

She stands and looks at you, her expression sour. 

“I have no need to justify my actions to anyone. Believe me when I say, I did them a favor. They were already dead, Y/N. There was no hope. That is one of the responsibilities that comes with being in charge. This discussion is over and I will speak of it no more.”

You tsk, shaking your head. “If you need to rationalize killing a child to be a leader, I’m glad it isn’t me.”

She laughs sharply, taking her seat again. Her tone is icy. “Better that you aren’t; you haven’t the stomach for it.”

You grit your teeth and slap your hand on her desk. You don’t bother trying to hide the fury in your eyes. “At least I have a heart, Wilhemina.”

Her expression remains blank, you can feel tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You both remain steadfast in your stare down, and finally you break the gaze. You refuse to let her see you cry like this. Without another word, you exit her office and return to your desk. You think how fortunate you are that you are alone as the first tear slides down your face. 

\--

After dinner that evening, Venabe calls a meeting. You had just returned to your room after your reading where she had made it a point to ignore you. You supposed you deserved the cold shoulder after barging into her office like that. That doesnt mean it still didn’t sting. One of the other greys informed you that you were to all meet in the common area; no one had any other information. 

Once all have assembled, Venable clears her throat, loud enough that the murmur in the room dies out. She begins to speak.

“It has come to my attention that there is some confusion regarding the perimeter breach earlier today. We are here to set the record straight. The alarm was caused by a family stumbling upon our grounds. Yes, there was a child with them. Due to the advanced radiation poisoning that they all suffered from, I made the decision to end their suffering. I did what I had to do to keep this compound safe. As for those of you who think I am a monster...,” you feel your chest burn as she meets your eyes, “better that I am the monster you face than the ones outside.”

She raps her cane twice against the floor, dismissing the crowd without a word. You half expect her to come to you, but she disappears down the hallway alone.

You return to your room and attempt to relax. You manage to fall asleep quickly but are awoken by awful dreams.

You can only remember snippets: a child screaming with a melting face, ears and eyes bleeding, fire licking at your heels as you run from them. 

You clutch the necklace around your neck. You understand now how difficult things must be for her, and on a day when she probably needed you, you abandoned her. 

You don’t bother changing from your sleep clothes. Slipping out your door and down the familiar pathway towards her room, you hope against hope that you don’t run into anyone. Luck must be on your side tonight because you make it to her door undiscovered. You knock sharply twice. There is a pause, a shuffling and the sound of her crossing the room. 

“Who is it?”

You clear your throat. “It’s me.”

There is a pause and for a moment, you wonder if she will even open the door. Finally you hear the lock disengage and she opens the door to let you in. 

You stand opposite each other. Her eyes are red and she look more tired than you had ever seen her. She crosses an arm across her abdomen, as if she were protecting herself. 

“Are you here to insult me again?” Her cold tone belies the hurt look in her eyes. 

You shake your head, taking a cautious step towards her. “I came to apologize. I let my emotions get the best of me. I never thought about the kinds of difficult decisions that you had to make. And...I know that you have a heart. I’m sorry.”

She says nothing for a long moment, she seems to be digesting your words. Finally she steps towards you, holding out her hand. You place your hand in hers and she pulls you towards her. She is looking into your eyes now.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. And you are right, when things like that happen they need to be addressed before ridiculous rumors engulf this place. I never thought of it that way. Do you think you could forgive me?” She laces her fingers with yours, squeezing your hand.

“Only if you forgive me too.” You take your free hand and brush her cheek. She closes her eyes and you bring your lips to hers in a soft kiss. She whispers against your mouth.

“Always.” 

Your relief must come through in the way that you kiss her because she chuckles gently when she pulls away. You practically pout. She brushes your cheek with her fingertips.

“Will you sit with me?” 

She leads you to the couch and sits. She then places a pillow on her lap, motioning for you to lean back against her. You do so and to your delight this puts you in a prime position to place a few kisses against her neck. Her fingers tangle fully in your hair and she makes a contented noise in the back of her throat. You murmur against the soft skin of her neck and her arms slide around you. 

“I missed you, all day.”

You recline in her lap, and she continues running her fingers through your hair, almost reverently. She leans down to kiss to you lazily. You spend a few unhurried minutes kissing one another before you both pull away. You have a broad smile plastered across your face. She is returning the soft look tenfold. You relax into her embrace, closing your eyes as she plays with your hair. You can’t remember being happier than this moment, right now. You take one of her hands in your own and lay it across your chest, above your heart. 

“You make me incredibly happy.” 

She presses a kiss to your forehead. “The feeling is mutual, my darling.”

You sigh and smile, you feel your eyelids getting heavy. The last thing you remember before you both fall asleep is teasing her again. 

“Darling? I thought I was your dream girl.”

She laughs, kissing you sweetly. “How about both?”

You nod, smiling broadly as you cradle her hand against you. 

“Your dream darling..., yeah, I like the sound of that.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so the finale has come and gone and we are still here. I wanted to make sure we didn't get any more info before I wrote this chapter. I am taking great creative license at this point, which is only fair because R.M. completely squandered Venable's potential as a character. This whole fic is officially canon divergent now, haha. 
> 
> Her backstory here is totally mine and pieced together from what we do know about her. I do hope it is in character as this chapter has taken me the longest to write. I wrote and rewrote things several times, and I hope you all enjoy the final product. 
> 
> Thank you again, to everyone that has left a comment or sent me a message to tell me their thoughts. Your feedback keeps me going when I get stuck. 
> 
> Finally, Lex, I love you and your big beautiful brain. Thank you for everything.

A few weeks pass, by your estimation. You can no longer accurately judge the passage of time by your evenings together. More often than not, you spend more than one night a week in one another’s company. Though you are careful to retain an aloof attitude towards one another where there are prying eyes, when you are alone there is rarely a moment when you are not touching. Contrary to the image she upholds of an distant leader, around you she is tactile and affectionate. You love every minute of it.

Currently you are sitting beside one another on her couch, two pieces of folded paper in front of you. She had asked you to show her how to make the paper flower that currently sat on her bedside table. You had laughed, and she only became slightly cross at your reaction. You told her that was too advanced and decided to start a bit smaller than that. She had done better than you expected. Her complaints thus far had only been limited to scowling and proclaiming this “infantile behaviour” when you told her she had folded something backwards. Her sour mood had been dispelled by a few deep kisses and now you were back at it. 

“Okay, now see these two flaps here? Fold those down like this, those are the back legs.”

She was watching you intently, copying your every move. 

“Now flip it over, and what do you have?”

She holds the finished product in her hand, looking at it skeptically. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea.”

You sigh, holding up yours next to hers. 

“Look, its a turtle. See the shell and legs? You did pretty well, for the first time.”

She places the paper animal down on the table, and points at yours.

“Why is yours recognizable and mine looks like...road kill?”

You laugh and take her hand, drawing circles on her palm with your thumb. “Because, darling, I’ve been making papercraft since I was a kid. I’ve got a few years experience on you. You said you wanted to learn; it takes time to master anything, you know.”

You tilt her head towards you with your free hand and see that she looks decidedly unamused. In fact, she looks quite upset. As you’re racking your brain to figure out what might have upset her, she drops her gaze to the table. She says something in a low tone you are surprised to hear. 

“I just feel as if I failed, and that is unacceptable.”

You somehow feel this has to do with more than making an origami turtle.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She sighs, meeting your eyes once again. She leans against you and you slip your arm around her shoulders. You press your lips to her forehead. There is a long silence before she speaks. She takes your hand in her lap and runs her fingers from your wrist to your fingertips. She repeats this action over and over in some kind of self soothing activity. You quite like it. 

“Have I ever told you about my life before all this?”

You shake your head no. She shifts so she is leaning on you more fully. She takes a deep breath and begins. 

“When I was younger, I was often told that I was...defective. By my parents, mostly, and often by others in my family. My disability was a source of humor for them and quite often my only solace was burying my nose in a book. I could drown them out much more effectively when I had another world to immerse myself in. I excelled in my studies but I loathed being in school. I was told I was too abrasive to make friends, and too insensitive to keep them. Needless to say this took some toll on my self esteem, being the ‘mean cripple’. I suppose I took that insult to heart after some time and modeled myself around it. I did not see it as being mean; I saw it as protection from others. If I let no one in, then no one would be able to...hurt me.”

You sense she needs some sort of reassurance and you join your hands together. She pulls them into her lap as she traces your interlaced fingers. 

“You must understand that if I did not succeed immediately, and at everything, I was akin to a failure in my mother’s eyes. Eventually this came to be what I expected of myself. Perfectionism became second nature. I somehow made it through high school, and as soon as I had the capabilities, I moved to Palo Alto to stay with an aunt. I wanted a fresh start, away from the toxic influences of my immediate family. Perhaps somewhere where I would feel a sense of belonging. I got a job at a diner nearby. My aunt knew the owner, and though I was unable to be a server, I was able to work the counter well enough. There were two young men with ridiculous hair that frequented the diner, with odd orders that I could always remember. Lemon meringue pie with pickles and a chicken biscuit with apple jelly. 

They witnessed one of my frequent altercations with the sexist manager I had at the time. He was frequently spouting off at the mouth about this or that. I have always had little tolerance for such behavior, and he was no exception. These two men told me time and time again that they wanted me to come work for their software startup. I always turned them down. The day finally came that buffoon made a comment I did not care for, I smacked him and left. I called those two men and took them up on their offer.”

You can’t help but smile just a little when she mentions smacking some asshole. “What did he say?”

She chuckles at the memory, “He said, and I quote, ‘If you could find someone to fuck you hard enough maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight.’ Uptight virgin. He often referred to me as such, though he did not know that I knew. ”

You whistle low. “Damn. What a douche.”

She shrugs, laying her head on your shoulder. You rub your hand up and down her arm soothingly.

“I would be lying if I said I did not take some small pleasure in the fact that he is most likely long dead. I call these men and they tell me they will interview me the next day. It was a formality, they said, and gave me an address. Imagine my amazement when their ‘startup’ was out of the back of an Astro Van from 1988.”

You laugh out loud, holding up your hand. “Wait, wait, you’re saying that those guys who had you buy coke and airplane hookers were the same guys that had a business out of a van?!”

She nods. “The very same. I told them they must be joking, and they assured me they had money coming in; that they were expanding and needed someone they could trust. They offered me far more than I was making serving coffee and pie. As it turns out, they did have the money; they put me in charge of not only day to day operations but real estate acquisition and hiring. As a company we quickly rose to a more than respectable position. We did not always get along, the three of us. They were idiots, absolute morons, and I won’t lie, I often thought about quitting. Especially after one of them informed me that they only reason he hired me was to see if he could get ‘that bitchy redhead to spank me with her cane.’”

You cannot contain the snort that statement causes, covering your mouth. “Sorry, not funny. But kind of funny, what did you do?”

She looks over to you, leaning towards you with a sly smile. “What do you think I did?”

You grin and tap your chin, “If I had to guess, I would say you hit him.”

She laughs and kisses you quickly. “You are correct, I smacked him in a board meeting after he let that slip. I walked out, and they both chased me into the street where I promptly made one hell of a scene. He managed to behave himself after that; they gave me a raise the next week.”

You are grinning ear to ear now. You bump your shoulder against hers. “I’m gonna need to hear that story. He said he wanted you to spank him, in a board meeting?”

She shakes her head. 

“He had the gall to state his disgusting desire to a group of potential investors. He complimented my ability to keep them organized, and followed up with that. The social skills of those simpletons were...lacking, to say the very least. Although we traded insults and criticisms, not once did they reference my affliction. Nor did anyone else, as I had carte blanche to terminate anyone on the spot.”

She falls silent. She is running her thumb across your knuckles, back and forth, seemingly lost in thought. She had never mentioned her ailment, and you had never asked. You had never felt as if the time was right, until now. 

There were times when the two of you would be sharing some sort of intimate moment, and your hands on her back would come too close for comfort. She would stiffen in your arms. You often thought perhaps you were causing her pain, and the thought of that nagged at your brain. You cleared your throat.

“Does it hurt?”

She shakes her head no and you press your lips together before softly asking. “Then...why you flinch if I touch you there?”

She disentangles your hands, pressing a kiss to your wrist before standing. You watch her make her way to her drink on the table, which she downs quickly. She is chewing on the corner of her lip; she is considering something. You could almost see the wheels turning in her head. 

She returns to your side but makes no move to sit. You look up at her innocently.

“I have never--that is to say, no one wanted--,” she makes a frustrated sound and you take her hand as she stumbles on her words. This seems to calm her and she closes her eyes as she speaks. “I have never allowed anyone to touch me in such a way. Not that anyone ever had the desire.”

“Would you let me?”

Your gazes are locked, her eyes are glassy and you wonder if she is about to cry. You squeeze her hand.

“You would want to?” Her voice breaks and you nod.

“Yes. If you are ready.”

She spends a long moment watching you before she returns to her seat, facing away from you. Her implied consent is not enough for you and you place your hands on her shoulders. You need to know that she is ready and not simply placating you.

“Are you sure?” You squeeze her shoulders lightly. 

“Yes.” 

You slowly, softly, run your fingers down her back. She doesn’t stiffen when you touch her spine, but you hear her breath catch. You reach around her and place one hand in her lap. She takes your hand in both of hers as she slowly exhales. To your surprise, after the second pass of your fingers she squeezes your hand and speaks.

“Unzip my dress.”

You oblige, pulling the long zipper down slowly. The expanse of her back is exposed, and for the first time you see the evidence of her scoliosis. You knew this was the reason she required a cane to get around, but it was far less severe than you imagined it to be. You run a delicate hand down her back, leaning closer to her ear. 

“You are so very beautiful to me."

Her response is quiet, and you can hear the strain in her voice. 

“You are not...disgusted? Disappointed? Repulsed?”

You press a kiss to her shoulder, curling your other arm around her so that you are fully embracing her from behind. You zip her up, as you could see the goosebumps beginning to raise on her skin. You notice she is quaking slightly in your arms and her breath is uneven. You turn her face back to you and see tears spilling down her cheeks.   
“No. Never. You are stunning, every part of you is gorgeous to me. Every part of you makes you who you are. I love every inch of you.”

You bite your lip, harder than necessary, hoping she would not catch your slip. 

You’d known you loved her for quite some time now. You only ever admitted it to yourself, late at night in your bedroom. As you held the necklace she gave you in your hand, you would whisper to the ceiling. You and the four walls of your room were the only witnesses to your admission of how completely you had fallen for her. 

She turns in her seat to fully face you. Her expression is unreadable.

“What did you just say?”

You feel a sense of panic clawing up your throat. You didn’t mean for her to find out like this; you didn’t want to scare her with too much too fast. You knew trying to stall would be pointless, though, so you took a deep breath and averted your eyes.

“I said...that I love you. All of you. You are--”

You do not have the chance to finish as she surges forward to capture your lips with her own. She is kissing you with such devotion it steals the breath from your lungs. Her hands slide up your sides, coming up to tangle fully in your hair. She breaks your kiss long enough to hum a question against your lips. 

“Say it again?”

She pulls back for a moment and this time you hold her gaze. 

“I love you, V.”

She smiles broadly at you, tugging on your hair gently as she observes you. Your scalp tingles where she is lightly scratching your head. 

“V? Is that your pet name for me?”

You return her smile, jabbing her lightly in the rib. “Well, yeah. You told me before, you hate being called Wilhemina. And I don’t feel right calling you ‘Ms. Venable’ either. At least, not when we are alone.”

She places her lips on your shoulder, kissing her way up your neck. She murmurs against your ear.

“I love it, darling.”

She is kissing your neck softly, too softly, and you squirm beneath her. 

“Kiss me.”

She whispers against the skin of your neck, her tone teasing. “I am kissing you.”

You bring a hand to her hip, trying to pull her closer to you. 

She is running her hands down your body, with every pass she grazes your clothed breasts. It is a feather light touch, but the sensations her fingers tracing your body cause are intense. You gasp and she hums against your neck.

You tilt your head back and whimper, sliding your fingers into her hair. The feeling of her mouth and tongue on your neck, so much and for so long is driving you wild. This is getting carried away; you know she wants to wait. So do you. If this continues, you are sure she will have you in a puddle beneath her and you will be powerless to resist her. 

“Baby, wait.”

She stops her ministrations, pulling away from you.

“Is something wrong?”

Her cheeks are flushed and you have completely ruined her hairstyle. She is captivating, and you reach out to cup her cheek after you sit up. 

“No, quite the opposite. You are unbelievably sexy, and you are driving me wild right now. Which is why I think we should stop.”

She exhales, long and slow. “Yes, I agree, I believe I got carried away.”

You fold your hands in your lap as she adjusts herself so that she is sitting more comfortably beside you. 

“It’s not that, believe me I loved every moment of what you were just doing, I only think that...we should probably talk about, taking things further?”

You meet her eyes. You take a breath, then your words come out in a rush. 

“I know that you said you wanted to wait, and I do too, but the more this happens...I want you, all of you. And I want to be with you. It is going to happen, isn’t it? There is going to be a time where we can’t stop. When we don’t want to stop. Before that happens, I need to know that is what you want. That we both want the same thing.”

You trail off, looking at her expectantly. She takes your hand and speaks.

“We do. I have never felt such desire, such longing for another person. I care for you so deeply it sometimes frightens me. You manage to make me feel things I doubted I could feel. I never--,” she hesitates, and you patiently wait for her to find her words. 

“I have never been, fully intimate with anyone. Anything past a few dates with any one person, and I would convince myself it was a futile endeavor. If I am being honest, intimacy frightens me. It always has, and I have lived my life without it. Wanting it certainly, on occasion, but never enough to change my ways. Until I met you.” 

She smooths her fingers over the inside of your arm, drawing lazy patterns on the sensitive skin there. You lean against her, resting your head on her shoulder. She continues.

“I want to be with you. In every way. To be honest, the thought of us together often keeps me up at night. After you have left, I wonder, what might have happened if you’d stayed. If we had not stopped touching one another.”

You bite your lip at her confession. “Me too.”

You feel her fingers tremble against your skin. She makes a thoughtful noise, laying her hand on top of your own. 

“I suppose then, that unless one of us is feeling overwhelmed, we ought to let things...proceed as they may?”

“Yes. You will tell me if something becomes too much for you?”

She nods, hooking her finger under your chin to raise your face to hers. 

“And you will do the same?”

“Of course.” You lean your forehead against hers. The two of you sit in comfortable silence together for a few minutes. 

She opens her eyes and lifts her hands to your cheeks. She cradles your face tenderly and presses her lips to yours. Your heart rises in your chest at the words she purrs against your mouth. 

“I love you.”

She kisses you soundly. You encircle her with your arms and return her kiss, your heart skipping a beat.

Who knew falling in love at the end of the world would be so easy?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The list of people I must thank is so long at this point that I dedicate this long ass chapter to anyone who I've talked to in the past few weeks regarding this fic. If it was a long conversation or a short exchange, thank you. 
> 
> I appreciate every kind word and every suggestion from all of you. You are the reason I keep this going. 
> 
> Thank you.

It is incredible how things can change.

If someone had told you when you arrived that you would spend most of your early mornings waking up in Wilhemina Venable’s arms, you would have thought they were crazy. 

If that same person told you that she would reach for you and pull you back towards her whenever you tried to get up, peppering your neck with kisses as you both laughed, you would have known they were mad. 

Yet here you are, catching your breath and turning to face her, allowing you both a few more minutes of affection before you part. The look of tenderness in her eyes steals your breath away once again. 

She pulls you flush against her with an arm around your waist. You reach up to caress her cheek and the two of you simply smile at each other. Your heart clenches deliciously in your chest; how fortunate you are to see her like this. 

Her hair is down, spread out in a copper wave across the pillows. She is wearing the simple shift you first saw her in when you returned her book all those months ago. The thing you cherish most, however, is the light in her eyes that only seems to come out for you. Even when you cannot be near one another, whether it be a meeting or dinner or some other function, she will still meet your eyes at least once. In them you will see, for just a moment that luminous flash she reserves for you alone. And every time, it warms your heart. You always manage to hide your smile and go about your business, but those shared, secret moments are precious to you.

A covetous affection spreads from your core to the tips of your fingers. You thread your fingers through her hair and bring your lips together. She tangles her legs with yours; she returns your kiss as her free hand slips under your shirt. It comes to rest in the small of your back, her fingers curl against your skin. You pull away and hum appreciatively as she lightly runs her nails across your back. You scoot down so you can move closer to her, dipping your head to nuzzle into her neck. You never pegged her as a cuddler before, but you had learned that she craved moments like this. You were always willing to indulge her. She rests her chin on your shoulder and tightens her grip around you. 

She is the first to speak this morning.

“There is another group coming today. Four, I believe. I do certainly hope there are no...incidents this time.”

You snort against her neck. Within the last group of survivors was a woman who had politely inquired if Venable was a vampire. Her case was something to the tune of her name being Mina, a comment about her hair and the lack of mirrors in the compound. 

Venable had not been amused at the time, and you were sure that only you were able to get away with teasing her about it. Possibly Meade as, in a moment of shared camaraderie, you exchanged a quick look. You had both stifled a laugh at the expression on Venable’s face. 

You chuckle and press your teeth lightly against her neck. She shivers.

“Are you sure? You don’t vant to suck my blood? Oh Mina!”

You feel her sigh in faux exasperation, as she disentangles your limbs to stand. She strikes you lightly in the chest, and you feign great injury. 

“Oh, your vampire strength, it is too much for a mere mortal such as I! My vision, fading...!” You clutch your chest dramatically. 

“Must you?”

She is looking down at your theatrical display from beside the bed. She is doing an impressive job of keeping her face straight but you see the corner of her lip twitch upward. You sit up quickly and grin. Her poker face breaks and she laughs. 

“Oh, darling, you know I must.”

She laughs at this, leaning down to kiss you once more. She grazes your jaw with her knuckles. 

“I have a meeting with Ms. Meade soon. Will I see you later?”

You nod and kiss her palm. 

“Of course, love. A horde of vampires couldn’t keep me away.”

She rolls her eyes and pats your cheek. 

“You are quite fortunate that you are so enchantingly adorable.”

You are slipping your shoes on as she is readying to leave. You then rest your chin in your hand and bat your eyes at her.

“Aren’t I, though?”  
You both laugh, kiss again as you part, and take your leave in opposite directions down the hallway. 

You slip into your own bed and feel something tickling your chest. You peek down into your shirt and draw out the offending item. A snicker passes your lips as you examine your hand in the candlelight. 

Laying draped across your palm is a single very long, very red hair. 

\---

 

As per usual, upon the arrival of the new group Venable called a meeting. Your attention tend to drift as you watched her. This was nothing new, as you always had paid a fair amount of attention to her before your relationship began. Now, however, your thoughts would stray to how she looked curled up beside you on her couch with her nose in a book. Or how she would absentmindedly braid your hair as your head laid in her lap, while the two of you discussed various subjects at length. How sometimes when she kissed you, she would cling to you almost frantically, as if she feared you were going to slip from her grasp. 

As Venable dismissed the meeting, your train of thought was broken. You made your move to leave but before you could take more than a step, you heard someone behind you calling out. 

“Hey! Hey, library girl! Wait a minute!”

You turned towards the sound to see the vampire girl waving you down. 

Apparently she was a purple now, and you waited patiently as she made her was across the somewhat crowded room. 

“Yes?”

You didn’t bother telling her your name, as you didn’t have a chance to speak before she grabbed your hand and a veritable waterfall of words tumbled from her mouth. 

“Hey, I know you don’t know me, my name’s Claudia, anyway I wanted to ask if you had a couple books I’ve been looking for, and I was trying to get your attention after dinner last week but I don’t think you saw me. Anyway do you think, if I came to the library sometime that you could help me out?”

You blinked and waited for her to allow you to speak. 

“Of course. That’s what I do. You can come by any time.”

She practically beams at you. She is still holding your hand, and you manage to pull away. This only causes her to step closer to you. 

“I just really admire that you read to everyone every night, that is really sweet and I don’t think a lot of people would have the patience for that, you know?”

You manage to catch Venable’s gaze as another purple is speaking to her. Your pleading look towards her causes her tip her chin up haughtily. Her expression communicates more than her words could, and you know she is laughing on the inside. She must think this is payback for earlier. Here you thought she would save you when instead she is watching you suffer. You make a mental note to come up with some sort of retaliation later. 

“That actually wasn’t my idea. It was Ms. Meade’s, and Ms. Venable’s. So if you want to thank someone, thank them.”

She glances over at shoulder towards Venable and shakes her head. “She is too scary for me, I don’t think I’d ever talk to her on my own. I still think she’s a vampire. Have you ever talked to her alone?”

Your face remains passive, as your hand comes up reflexively to touch the pendant at your neck. Your high collared shirt prevents Claudia from seeing the necklace itself. 

“A few times. She definitely isn’t a vampire.”

Claudia flips her hair, leaning towards you. “Convincing people that she isn’t a vampire is exactly what a vampire would do. I’ll see you later, then!”

With that, she is off across the room, grabbing the elbow of another purple as they make their way out of the room. They both look back at you and wave, and you offer an awkward smile in return. Venable has already left and you take your leave as well, heading back to the library. 

\--

A few hours pass before you hear a familar voice calling out to you. 

“Oh, library girl!”

You roll your eyes; apparently that is your name now. You call out from the side of the room where you were organizing a pile of dictionaries someone had found while cleaning a storage area.   
“Just a minute, I’ll be right there.”

Standing at your desk is Claudia, with her hand on her hip. 

“You said come by anytime, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I suppose I did.” You take a seat and pull your tablet closer to you. “What were you looking for?”

She is twirling a piece of her hair around her finger. 

“Do you have um...any of the Harry Potter books?”

“Yes, they are over there,” you gesture to your right with your pen. “Anything else?”

She leans her elbows on your desk, peering down at the various items strewn across your workspace. “So what all do you do here?”

You fold your hands in front of you. 

“I do librarian things being that I am the librarian.”

“And what do you do with your free time?”

You’re not sure what she is getting at. She drums her fingers on the counter and the noise begins to grate your nerves. 

“Is there anything else you need?”

The way she is looking at you makes you uncomfortable. She opens her mouth to speak, and you hear the a far off door shutting. The telltale sound of a Venable coming down the hallway is a relief to you. Claudia seems to take no notice of the approaching woman. 

“You have to at least have a hobby, or a boyfriend here or something?”

If it were not for the desk between you, Claudia would most likely be in your face. You leaned back to put some space between you. 

Because she is leaning down, you can see past Claudia to the vestibule beyond. You are lucky to catch Venable’s expression as she enters, because for a moment she appears to lose her composure. Her jaw clenches, and you can see the grip on her cane tighten. She presses her lips together; her brows knit together in consternation. 

Then, it is gone. Replaced by her usual apathetic visage, she approaches you. 

As Claudia takes notice of Venable, you watch the color drain from her face. She looks as if she has seen a ghost, and you cover your mouth to hide your smile. 

Venable notices your reaction and her lip raises just slightly, enough for you to notice but unbeknownst to Claudia. Her tone as she addresses her is unnecessarily friendly. She knows exactly what she is doing. 

“Ms. Bell. How are you this afternoon?”

She has managed in one movement to place herself closer to you than Claudia is, and has placed her hand on your desk. 

She had done this once before, when the pompous ass had been blatantly flirting with you months ago. You now recognize this possessive display for what it is. She was doing it then and she is doing it now; this is her making her claim to you as well as she can in the position she is in. You simply cannot help the grin that crosses your face. 

Claudia is doing her best fish out of water expression. She finally manages to speak; her silence is a marvel given her recent loquaciousness. 

“I am--I’m good, Venable. How are you?” She leans against your desk, trying to look casual. You rest your chin on your elbow, and place your free hand on your desk. You note with a spark of pleasure that Venable’s hand slips forward to curl around the edge of the counter. This action puts your hands within inches of one another. 

“I would certainly be better if you addressed me as Ms. Venable. I am not on your little league baseball team.” 

She takes a step towards Claudia. Claudia almost winces. 

She is terrified. You are glad your hand is somewhat covering your mouth. Your eyes pass from one woman to the other and you press your grin to the knuckles of your hand. 

“Yes, Ms. Venable.” She folds her hands in front of her. It is becoming increasingly hard to contain your mirth at this entire situation. 

“I am feeling, a bit parched however. I do believe I should find myself a drink.” Venable removes her hand from your desk, rubbing her neck in a lazy manner. The look on her face is almost predatory and for a split second, you feel bad for the poor girl. Only for a second, though. 

“I’ve got to go. I--, see you guys later.”

Claudia is away and out the door before you finally give in and laugh so hard that tears come to your eyes. Venable looks exceedingly proud of herself for scaring Claudia off. 

“You know that poor girl is going to go tell anyone she finds that you actually are a vampire?”

Venable shrugs as she chuckles along with you. “Believe me, I have been called worse.” 

“Why didn’t you save me from her earlier? You left me there!”

She picks up a scrap of paper from your desk, motioning for a pen. You place it in her hand as she begins writing something. “It was what you deserved after your little stunt this morning. You can handle yourself well enough. I needed a bit of entertainment.”

She finished her note, folds it and slides it across to you.

“I will see you after dinner. Do be on time.”

“I always am.”

She smiles, and you smile, and your heart beats a little faster. By the way she bites the edge of her lip, you are certain her feelings are similar. 

She goes to take her leave, and you open the folded paper in your hand. Written in her impeccable cursive are three words. 

-I adore you.-

You call out after her retreating frame with a broad smile across your face. 

“Same here!”

You fold the paper in half again and slip it in your pocket. 

Your smile remains long after her departure.

\--

Your reading at dinner is the usual experience, however you notice Claudia has recovered from her afternoon and is again watching you intently. This does not go unnoticed by Venable, and you often see her shift in irritation when Claudia laughs a little too hard at something, and claps a little too much upon your completion. 

She makes a beeline for you at the chime of the clock and before you can manage to avoid her, she is at your side. Her hand curls around your bicep to hold you in place. She leans toward you, and you make no move to reciprocate. 

You see from the corner of your eye that Venable has left her seat and is making her way towards you. For a moment you are thankful that she is not planning to leave you here again. Claudia makes no attempt to lower her voice and her question causes you to balk. 

“Would you like to come to my room? Maybe we can...” she squeezes your arm lightly. “Get to know each other better?”

You can’t help but laugh at the capriciousness of the question. 

“Do you even know my name?”

She is looking up at you through her lashes. “I’m sure it will come up.”

You pull your arm from her grasp, looking over to see why it was taking Venable so long to get to you. To your surprise she is gone. Apparently she left when you weren’t paying attention. You turn back to Claudia. 

“You’re sweet, but I’m not interested, okay?”

She drops her hand, nodding. “Well...it was worth a shot, right?”

“I admire your forward attitude, but I’m not looking for anything like that.”

You can tell you’ve taken some wind from her sails, but she pats you on the shoulder. “See you later, library girl.”

You roll your eyes, ducking down the corridor towards Venable’s room when no one is looking.

\-- 

You barely knock on the door before Venable opens it and grabs your hand. She pulls you in and you shut the door behind you. 

Before you can ask where she went, she backs you up against the door. She says nothing to you, only covers your mouth passionately with hers as her free hand tangles in your hair. She is kissing you hard, her hand slips from your hair down your body. You groan as she grabs your ass. She bites your lip and swallows the noise from your throat before pulling away just enough to mutter a demand against your lips. 

“Lay down on the bed. Now.”

You do as you are told, swallowing against the lump in your throat as she lays next to you. She is half leaning against the pillows and this leaves both of her hands free. She wastes no time in moving so that she is half on top of you, half beside you. She cannot seem to keep her hands off of you; they are in your hair, on your side, sliding up your back. Her mouth is against your neck again and she is running her tongue over the shell of your ear. You grab her hip as she whispers in your ear.

“She wants you; I can see it.”

The first few buttons of your blouse have become undone, and you make a helpless noise in your throat as she moves down to kiss the exposed skin of your chest. 

“I don’t--god, V, I don’t want her...” she is trailing her tongue across your clavicle, and your hips buck against hers as she presses her teeth into your skin. You gasp as she alternates between biting the sensitive skin there and soothing it with her tongue.

“She can’t have you,” she is whispering against your skin, one of her hands brushes against your clothed breast. “You are mine.” She trails her fingertips over it enough times that is is not an accident. 

“Yes, yours.” 

You squirm beneath her and her and this movement causes her leg to slip between yours. Her thigh comes into contact with your core and in spite of you both being fully clothed, you moan in unison. She rears up to look at you, her eyes are black with lust. You can only imagine yours are the same. Her hands stop roaming your body, and come to rest on your stomach. 

You stay like that for a moment, a line between you that has yet to be crossed hangs in the balance. 

You slowly place your hands on her hips, biting your lip, as you rock against her thigh. The contact sets sets the ember in the pit of your stomach ablaze. You want to shut your eyes, the absolute pleasure you are feeling is like nothing you have ever experienced. Her lips are parted, a flush paints her cheeks a dusky red that is visible even in the low light of the fireplace. 

“You like that, don’t you?”

Her voice is low, husky.

You have to wet your lips to answer her.

“Yes, god yes.”

You grind against her again and she moves to give you better leverage. You can hear her breath catch when you grab fistfulls of the fabric of her dress. You arch your back slightly off the bed, gasping at the intensified contact. 

You hear her hiss through her teeth, her hands are buried in your hair. She brings your lips together, again and again, as you move against each other. 

You can feel a coiling in your belly, an insistent itch blooming from every place your bodies touch.

You meet her eyes. 

You’ve never seen her like this; there is a wild, possessive look in her eyes. Under that bright lust is an undercurrent of devotion and love that makes your chest ache. 

You are hopelessly in love with her. 

She lowers her head to kiss you again, you lean up to meet her halfway.

Before your lips meet, there are three sharp raps at the door. 

She pulls away from you and glares daggers at the poor old oak.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

She moves off of you and you press your hands to your face in a desperate attempt to cool the burning of your cheeks. 

She is trying to compose herself, and you sit up on the bed. She is grumbling to herself, straightening her top. 

She casts an apologetic look in your direction. You shrug, blowing her a kiss. 

With your legs pulled up and your back against the wall, you were out of range of anyone on the other side. 

Venable pulled the door open just enough to address whoever was on the other side. 

“What?”

To no one’s surprise, the voice of Ms. Meade falls upon your ears. There is a teasing lilt to her words. 

“I’m going to go ahead and hazard a guess here. You forgot you told me to come, didn’t you?”

Venable stands up straighter, then, indignantly responds.

“I did not forget. Something else came up.”

You hear Meade laugh.

“Oh I bet, ‘something’ else came up. Something about 5‘7“, light brown hair?”

You snort and cover your mouth. Venable casts a glare in your direction. 

“You are not funny, Miriam.”

Venable’s use of Meade’s first name causes no different reaction in the older woman. She chuckles and says sarcastically. “Someone in there thinks I’m funny, Wilhemina.”

You actually laugh at this, and wave away the second venomous look aimed in your direction. What is the point in hiding if she already knows you’re here?

“I fail to see how the two of you find such pleasure in driving me mad.”

You can hear the victorious tone in Meade’s voice. 

“The two of us? So she is there, and you are on a date! You really should share your schedule with me; I’d hate to keep interrupting...quality time together.”

Venable ignores her comment.

“If that will be all, Ms. Meade?”

Meade laughs, and you cover your mouth again. 

“I’ll expect that night time schedule sometime this week, then? Should I collect it from you, or will it be available at the library?”  
You can’t help laughing aloud at that one, and you her Meade laughing as well. 

“Goodnight, girls, have a lovely evening.” You hear her retreating down the hallway, whistling to herself. 

Venable shuts the door and gives you a pointed look.

“The last thing I need is you two ganging up on me. I will not allow it.” Her tone carries enough of a joking tone to it that you know she isn’t serious. You take a seat on the couch and pat the seat next to you. 

“Come here, will you?”

She obliges, taking a seat next to you. You clear your throat.

“Now, I don’t want you for one second to think that I’m complaining. But will yoy explain to me what all that was about?’

She has a sheepish look on her face, and she tilts her head back to study the rafters. 

“I was jealous.”

You place your hand over hers. 

“I could tell, but why did you leave after dinner?”

She turns to face you. Her shoulders shrug, she looks down at your hands entwined in her lap. 

“Because I could not bear it if you were to leave with her.”

You feel a pang of sympathy, for her honestly and for her clarity. You scoot closer to her to press your lips to her cheek.

“Why would I leave with anyone but you? I love you; I only have eyes for you.”

She turns to meet your eyes and smiles, you almost miss the shiny mist in her eyes. 

“Do you really mean that?”

You can tell she needs this comfort, this affirmation. You press your lips to hers softly, without the urgency of earlier. 

“Yes, V. I do.”

You sit back, patting the pillow you put in your lap. She moves to recline into your embrace. You begin to pull the pins from her hair, threading your fingers through her long tresses as you unmake her hair. 

Her eyes slide shut, and you feel her relax against you. You begin to hum, some soothing melody from a video game you adored before all this happened. 

“That is lovely, keep doing that."

Her voice is soft, sleepy.

You’re not sure which she means, your fingers in her hair or your melody, so you continue both as she drifts off in your arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song the reader is humming is the song of healing from the legend of zelda: majora's mask. 
> 
> if you've never heard it, you can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDX4ZwUeOok


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are earning that mature rating this chapter, kids.
> 
> I wrote this in one day with the help of the always wonderful Lex. She did not want to be surprised by anything more than she had to know; as always she got me out of the rut I got myself into with her big beautiful brain and her off the cuff suggestions.
> 
> Special thanks to Ashley for being pretty much the greatest of all time.
> 
> And immeasurable, innumerable thanks to everyone who has commented on this, or shared it, or sent me a message on tumblr. You are all beautiful, wonderful people. I'm glad our shared obsession with Venable brought us together. 
> 
> I say it every time, but never want anyone to forget: feed the starving artist and leave a review. It's free and keeps me going. If you enjoy this story and want to chat, I am @bleu-moo on tumblr.

Ms. Meade was an unbelievably difficult person to get alone.

You had questions; questions only she could answer. She was proving irritatingly difficult to pin down. She seemed to always be surrounded by others. If it was not Venable herself, it was a member of Meade’s personal crew that hung around within a few feet of her, almost constantly. 

You had been trying for at least two days now. Every time you thought that you had her, someone else would show up. Your frustration must have been becoming evident. With each passing interaction, you would see a bit more awareness appear in the older woman’s eye. 

After the most recent failed attempt, you clenched your fists at your sides as she headed down a hallway with her second in command. You called out after her retreating form in frustration.

“Ms. Meade!”

She stopped and turned, slowly, towards you. 

“Yes, Ms. Y/N. What is it?”

You took a deep breath. “I need to speak with you, later, alone, at your earliest convenience.”

After a long, scrutinizing moment she nodded in your direction. 

“Come to my office in one hour. Acceptable?”

You nodded. She nodded. You went your separate ways. 

The sardonic smile you thought you saw flash across her face was certainly all in your head.

 

\----

In one hours time, you reported to Meade’s office as requested. 

It was half the size of Venable’s, and there was definitely less empty space. Shelves and filing cabinets lined the walls. Files laid spread out on her desk, in neat and orderly piles. 

Of course she was already seated at her desk; there was never a moment where Meade conceded the upper hand and this was no different. She folded her hands on her the tabletop and looked at you expectantly. 

“What is so urgent that you must speak to me alone? I see you at least ten times a day; you have a habit of showing up wherever I am.”

You tilt your head at this, trying your hardest not to smile. 

The tone of her voice is teasing, and you know she is alluding to running into you when Venable is with her. Meade has taken to stepping ahead of the two of you; you could swear she’s acting as a buffer between you and whoever may be looking. Each time you pass in a hallway or another not so public area, Venable will touch you somehow. It is fleeting and chaste: fingers across your hip, at the small of your back, grazing across the back of your hand. Her expression does not change, and you never exchange words or even glances. Most of the time she doesn’t even break her stride. She simply touches you, and you smile ear to ear. A monumental development from a woman who recoils from anyone that makes an attempt to touch her. But then again, you seem to be the exception to all of her rules. 

“Do I? Funny coincidence, that. One might think that you’re following me.”

She snorts, laughs as she leans back in her chair.

“One might be half correct. What can I help you with?”

You think about playing coy, and speaking in allusions and insinuations. You then remember she has all but caught Venable on top of you. There is no point in beating around the bush. 

“Do you know when her birthday is?”

You see Meade’s eyebrows rise, and she leans forward. 

“I’m assuming, that by her, you’re meaning your girlfriend?”

You can feel your cheeks turning pink but you hold your ground.

“We have never explicitly discussed that exact term but, yes. My girlfriend.”

Referring to Venable out loud as your girlfriend made the resident butterflies in your stomach flutter incessantly around. 

Meade has opened a drawer in her desk and appears to be digging around for something. The offhand comment she makes next causes those same butterflies to speed up tenfold.

“You haven’t? That is odd, she refers to you as such. Often.”

You see her glance up at you and you can’t help smiling. You rub your chin in a bid to hide your grin. 

“She calls me that or you call me that?”

She shrugs, and does not answer.

She has drawn out a file and laid it on her desk. She places her hand on it before looking to you. 

“You do know, this is certainly a breach of some sort of rule of hers? Celebrating birthdays? Unwise use of resources, and so on? However, I do remember her needing wine and chocolate for ‘personal use’, so perhaps someone has changed her mind.”

You shrug, mirroring her. “Perhaps.”

She rolls her eyes and opens the file, scanning the page. You can’t see it from where you are, but it appears to be some sort of dossier. She runs a finger down the paper, then grabs a binder from another drawer, flipping through it with her opposite hand. You feel a small spark of affection for her; she could have easily turned you away as soon as you came in. She seems to approve of your relationship with her boss and friend; you are positive she would tell you if she was not. 

“According to this, I would say--,” she picks up a pen and crosses a line of text out, writes something else in the margin, “it would be next week, give or take. Does that help?”

You cross the room to stand in front of her.

“I have a favor to ask, then.”

She tilts her head to the side, laying the pen down. She crosses her arms across her chest. “I won’t make any promises, but what do you need?”

You pull a piece of paper from your pocket, holding it up between your fingers and out to her. She takes it and peruses the list. 

“This is...acceptable. I could have them tonight. What am I doing with these items?”

You rock back and forth on your heels, thinking. 

“Well, I can’t really be seen carrying that stuff down the hallway. No one would question you. Can you get it into her room?”

She scoffs, as if you shouldn’t have even had the audacity to question her. 

“Of course I can. Your little midnight rendezvous are usually after dinner, yes? I’m assuming you’ll be spending the night.”

You feel color rising to your cheeks once again. You tip your chin up, smirking. 

“I may be. She usually decides that.”

Meade laughs sharply, shaking her head as she tucks the paper into the pocket of her shirt. 

“Of course she does. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

She makes a dismissive motion with her hand, and you turn to leave. She adds an afterthought as you reach for the door. 

“I hope you realize you owe me. Both of you little lovebirds.” 

You turn back and see a mischievous glint in her eye. 

You can only imagine how you will have to pay her back for this one.

\------

That night, Meade is suspiciously late for dinner. She arrives well into your reading, taking a seat next to Venable, who gives the older woman a sidelong glance. You see her lean over to Meade, speaking low, no doubt inquiring as to her whereabouts. Meade meets your eye and nods surreptitiously. 

You smile as you turn a page, raising your gaze to see Venable looking straight at you. She looks from you, to Meade, and back to you. Her expression is unreadable. With practiced ease, you focus at a point just over her shoulder to keep your face straight. It works and the rest of the hour proceeds without incident. 

With the chime of the clock the assembled group begins to disperse. You tuck your book under your arm and approach Venable, who is still seated. She looks up at you. You notice she curls her fingers around the head of her cane. The movement is almost desirous and for a moment you wonder if she was about to reach out and touch you.

“Yes?”

You lean down, close enough for your words to be heard only by her, but far enough away that this action is normal to a casual observer. 

“Meet me in your room in half an hour. Put on something more...,” you lower your eyes from her face to the high collar of her blouse, “...comfortable.”

Her brows raise, and you lick your lips. You see the corner of her mouth twitch as her eyes slip to your lips. No one else would have even noticed; no one else did. The rest of the room is oblivious and you are loving it. You stand straight up and dip your chin towards her. 

“Have a lovely evening, Ms. Venable.”

You hear her clear her throat as you walk away from her. 

No response follows. 

\--

As you requested, in one half hour an extremely comfortable looking Venable answered the door. 

Her hair is down, spilling over her shoulders. She is wearing yet another long shift, this one is the color of a deep wine. You’d never seen it before, but it suited her. 

“Is that new?” You reached out to draw your fingers down the soft fabric at neck, she tilted her head back to allow this movement. 

“New to you, yes. Do you like it?”

You hum in response, stepping closer to her. “I do, you look stunning in purple.”

She smiles widely and steps towards you. You meet her halfway and tangle your fingers into her hair as your lips meet. She slips her arm around your waist, and you could swear she sighed contently as you softly, so softly, ran the tips of your fingers down her back. They came to rest on her hips as she pulled away. 

“Did you think I would not notice that,” she nods towards a box sitting on the table in front of the fire, “or that Ms. Meade was quite late for dinner? What have you two been up to?”

You feign innocence; she doesn’t buy it for a second. “Whyever would you just assume that she and I had something to do with this?”

“It seems that lately, you two derive some sort of pleasure from finding new and inventive ways to push my sanity to its very limit.”

“Oh darling, I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She rolls her eyes and you follow her to the table. You both sit and she pulls the box towards her. There is a note on the top that you crane your neck to read. 

-Do not open this unless the librarian is present, or else.-

You cover your mouth to stifle your laugh. “I wonder what the or else is?”

“I am sure that I do not want to find out; that is the only reason I abided by your little rule.”

You press a hand to your chest. “My rule? That rule is the box’s rule, dear.”

She elbows you, then lifts the lid from the box. She reaches inside to pull out a small container wrapped in paper. She looks at your questioningly as you stop her from opening it. You cup her cheek and lift her chin to meet your eyes. 

“I want you to know, that while I may not have anything extravagant to offer you, I will give you anything within my power. Anything you desire, if I can get it or make it happen, I will do. That is your gift. This,” you pat the parcel in her hands, “is just, something nice. From me.”

She smiles at you, reaching out to press her fingers to your neck, just under your ear.

“Thank you, love. I will have to think about that, though. Is that alright? I do not want to waste such a valuable honor.”

You lace your fingers together, moving towards her and pressing your lips against hers. You whisper against her mouth, “Don’t take too long deciding, you know I’m not very patient.”

She kisses you deeply and nips your bottom lip lightly before pulling away enough to look you in the eye. “What is all this for, not that I am complaining.”  
You lean in to press kisses to her neck, her hands come up to stroke your shoulders and she sighs happily. You move your lips to her ear.

“Happy early birthday, darling.”

She pushes you away slowly, squinting at you.

“How do you know--...I knew it; I knew the two of you were working together.”

You can’t stop yourself from laughing at her expression. 

“I am sorry, I can neither confirm nor deny that allegation.”

She looks simultaneously impressed and irritated, and she is so cute it makes your heart jump in your chest. 

She places the unopened package back on the table, pulling you towards her by your shirt. 

“Well, we will see about that.” 

She kisses you again, tilting your head up as she trails her lips down your chin, across your neck, stopping to very lightly bite your pulse point. You shiver in her arms. You can feel her smile against your neck as she slips her hand beneath your shirt. Her hand roams higher to cup your breast; she squeezes it gently. Though you are still wearing your bra, you feel your body respond to her touch immediately. 

You bury your hands in her hair, tugging lightly on it, taking pride in the way her breath catches when you perform such an action. You do it again, harder this time, and she groans. You laugh as she returns to your lips; she kisses you over and over, murmuring against your lips. 

“Do you think you are funny, you little tease?”

You shift your hips beneath her and watch her eyes darken. 

“Maybe.”

You pay for that insolent comment as she captures your mouth with her own, moving to press her thigh firmly between your legs. You arch your back at the unexpected contact, grinding against her instinctively. She looks down on you; her breathing is ragged. 

“Is it still funny now?”

You open your mouth to speak but all you can manage is a low moan when she presses her leg harder to your center. She has that wild look in her eyes again, and you begin to worry that you will ruin your clothes and hers with how absolutely turned on you are getting. She leans down to trace her tongue around the curve of your ear, hitting a spot you didn’t know you had, one that makes you buck against her and whine. 

She is muttering a litany against your skin, anywhere she can press her lips. “You are exquisite, divine, so fucking sexy.”

You press the palms of your hands against her shoulders, hooking one of your legs around hers. You tilt your hips again and she rears up to face you, breathless. 

“I know what I want.”

You open your eyes to look at her, and she is biting on her lip, hard. Your voice is thick with want.

“And that is?”

She hesitates, worrying her lip as she does any time she is nervous. You cover her hands with yours, squeezing them softly. She finally speaks.

“I want to watch you...touch yourself. Show me.”

“How do you want me?"

There is a moment where you think she may backpedal; change her mind and shy away as she has before. You wait with bated breath for her to make a decision. 

She sits back to allow you to sit up. She is staring at you; she licks her lips and moves back against the arm of the couch. 

“Sit between my legs. With your back to me.”

You stand slowly, your head is spinning. You unbutton your shirt and turn from her, suddenly shy as your remove your bra. You toss it on the arm of the couch. You leave the shirt on and when you turn to face her, you can see her eyes drop to the faint outline of your breasts beneath your top. You feel your nipples harden under her scrutiny. You lick your lips and she mirrors your action almost immediately. 

“Do you want me to take my pants off?”

She nods, and you do so. You can feel her watching you. Your body feels as if it is on fire, her covetous stare is sending sparks across your skin.   
She holds her hand up when you make a move to remove your panties, and motions for you to come to her. You feel like you’re in a trance, and you go to her wordlessly, kissing her deeply before sitting down between her spread legs. Her hands come to rest on your naked outer thighs as her arms encircle you from behind. She places her chin on your shoulder and you can hear her attempting to keep her breathing under control. 

She turns to brush her nose against your cheek. Her voice is slow and sweet, and your heart clenches in your chest at her quiet question. “Are you alright with this? Are you ready?”

You nod and turn your head just enough to kiss her quickly. As her tongue slips into your mouth, you slide your hand inside your shirt, running your fingernails lightly down the curve of your breast; you press the flat of your palm against your nipple, sighing against her mouth. 

She pulls away from your lips, her eyes drop to your hand moving under your shirt. The thought of her watching you do this sends a bolt of pleasure to your core and you feel another rush come over you. 

Her hands do not move from your thighs, but her fingers brush the edges of your shirt. “Let me see.”

You sit up quickly, shrugging your shirt off. You hear her suck in a breath at the sudden exposure of skin, and you lean back against her again. You reach up with your other hand to graze your knuckles across your other breast. You feel her press against your back, moving her body flush against your back. You can feel her breathing is labored; she is watching you shamelessly grope yourself.

You lean your head back against her, sliding your hand down, across your abdomen. The closer you get to your waistband the shorter her breathing becomes. 

You smile to yourself, letting your hands roam over every inch of your skin. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly. She is pressing her lips to your shoulder, across your neck and up to your ear. 

You move your hips, spreading your legs a bit more to give yourself easier access. Her ministrations to your neck cease and you know she is watching your hand dip under the fabric of your underwear. 

As the tips of your fingers brush against your own incredible wetness, you moan low in your throat. There has never been a time in your life where you can remember being this turned on. You press the length of your first two fingers against yourself and hiss though your teeth at the sensation.

She practically purrs in your ear. “I bet you are soaked, aren’t you, darling?”

You whimper, dipping just the tip of a finger between your folds. You are unbelievably wet, and your hips roll of their own accord, seeking more pressure in vain . 

She squeezes your thigh, pressing her teeth to your shoulder. 

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer. Are you wet, my little tease?”

Your press the heel of your hand against your clit and groan, your hips begin moving in time with your fingers. 

“Yes, V, I am. I’m so fucking wet.”

She bites your ear lobe as you swirl your fingers around your clit. 

“Who makes you wet like this? Who can do this to you?”

This is absolute bliss; you are sure you are going to combust. Every part of you is on fire; she isn’t even touching you and you feel as if you’re ready to go over the edge.

“You baby, for you. No one but you, you’re the only--ah!”

She has placed her mouth firmly on your shoulder and is sucking hard enough to leave a mark. All the while her hips are moving against your back in time with yours. She is just as turned on as you are.

You turn your head so your lips are close to her ear. “Are you enjoying your present?”

Her hand comes up to cup your left breast; she moves her palm against your nipple gently. You cry out and grind the heel of your hand against yourself. She is trying to kill you, you are sure of it. 

“Fuck, V, you know I’m getting close.”

She nuzzles your hair line. “I know. Now stop, I want you to move to the bed so I can see you.”

You stop the movement of your hand, she stands and offers you her hand. You take it, thankful for her assistance as your legs are unsteady. She leads you to her bed and settles you on one side. She leans down to kiss you passionately, and you return her kiss with equal fervor. She holds your chin gently.

“You are unbelievable. The most wonderful, beautiful creature. Are you still alright?”

You nod, swallowing hard at her words. She always seems to know exactly how to speak to you in a way that makes your chest ache. She moves to the other side of the bed, settling in next to you. You lock eyes with her and reach down, slipping your bottoms off and tossing them to the side. It is only slightly embarrassing to you that you have to peel them off.

For the first time seeing you totally naked, Venable is surprisingly composed. You can see her chest rising and falling quickly under her shift, and her face is fully flushed. Other than that and her lust drunk eyes, she shows no outward signs of being flustered.   
Her eyes rake down your body, taking in every inch. She reaches out to trail her fingers from your chest down to your hipbone, pressing her fingertips into the dip at your waist. 

Goose bumps rise in the trail of her fingers, and she smirks at you. 

“Are you cold, darling?”

You shake your head, writhing under her light touch. 

She removes her hand from your body, moving closer to you. 

“Are you going to finish?”

You nod, feeling a sudden flash of shyness overcome you. She seems to sense this, and she kisses you lovingly, deeply; she whispers against your lips. “I want to watch you cum, my love.”

You whimper at this, skimming your hand down your body. You clutch one, both of your breasts, touching your body the way you wish she would. You finally sink two fingers deep inside yourself, crying out at the sensation. You cover your mouth with your other hand, a gasp escapes your lips as Venable watches you hungrily. You don’t want to break her gaze. 

Your move your fingers in and out; the sound of you pleasuring yourself is obscene. You can feel your wetness coating your thighs. She seems to be unable to decide if she wants to watch your hand or your face, as her attention shifts between the two often. She is panting, and you are short of breath yourself. 

You moan out loud as you slide your fingers in swift circles around your clit. Your hips are bucking in tandem with your fingers. You catch her eyes. 

“I’m...very close, V.”

She wets her lips,coming closer to you.. 

“Are you going to orgasm?”

You whimper, nodding, reaching up in vain to bring your lips together. She doesn’t allow you to kiss her. You make a frustrated sound.

She grasps your wrist, tugging your hand away from your center. 

“Not yet. I am not done enjoying this view. You may continue, but do not cum until I tell you that you may. Do you understand?”

You clench your thighs together; you adore when she is dominant like this. It drives you mad in the best way. 

“Yes, V.”

She releases her hold on you, and you lazily draw irregular patterns on your clit. This is delicious torture, and you are loving every second. You are moaning as quietly as you can, and she has not looked away from your eyes once. You hit a sensitive spot and gasp, pressing your lips together. 

“I...don’t think I’m going to be able to be quiet.”

She smooths her hand across your hair. “Don’t worry about that, darling. I will take care of you.”

You smile at her, and even through the haze of your arousal you feel such intense love for her that it consumes you. The words spill from your mouth the closer you get to the edge. You close your eyes and arch your back; you cannot hold this off much longer.

“I love you, oh, I love you so....please.”

She hovers her lips, just at the edge of your mouth. 

“Please what, love?”

You almost sob, grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her closer.

“Please, may I cum?”

She hmms against the curve of your cheek. Your hand is shaking, you can feel yourself throbbing. Desperate for release. 

She presses her lips to the edge of your mouth, purring against them.

“Yes. Cum for me, my love. My beautiful girl.”

That is all it takes. 

Your fingers finally find the spot you need, and your hips arch off the bed. You begin to call out her name, loudly, and her mouth covers yours to swallow your noises of pleasure. She continues kissing you as you see white hot behind your eyelids and your body shakes. 

You think you feel her grind her hips once, twice against your leg. She gasps against your lips and she trembles softly against you, and you fleetingly thing she has had one herself. You try to remember to ask, but your mind is all jumbled up. 

As you come down from your high, she is reaching behind your head to retrieve a blanket. Aftershocks course through your body, and you are suddenly very cold, laying nude so far from the fire. You are thankful for her presence of mind in planning for this. After she covers you both with the thick quilt, she wraps her arms around you.

You press your face into her neck, inhaling deeply as she caresses your back. She presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Are you alright? How are you feeling?”

You kiss her neck, murmuring against her shoulder. “Wonderful...and tired.”

You feel the rumble of her laugh more than you hear it. 

“Then go to sleep, my love.”

You entwine your legs with hers.

“You don’t want me to leave?”

She is pressing kisses across your forehead, her hands have gone to your hair to thread her fingers through it. You feel more satisfied and happy than you can remember being.

“I want you to stay.”

You grin and move back so that you can kiss her. She cradles you close to her and you think your heart could not possible be more full. You have almost dozed off when you hear her murmur against your temple. 

“Thank you for the present; it was by far the best gift I have ever received.”

You place a sleepy kiss to the skin of her chest, snuggling into her again. 

You always did know how to throw a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.walmart.com/ip/Women-s-3-4-sleeves-solid-midi-dress/125740295
> 
> This is the shift I have Venable wearing. Credit for finding the one to match my idea goes to Ashley.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. Life has this funny habit of getting in the way, so I was dealing with that.
> 
> You're all wonderful. I've met so many people because of this fic. Other talented authors, artists, fans and more. To everyone that has taken the time to comment, or look me up on tumblr and chat, you are part of what got me through this little bump in the road. Thank you. 
> 
> Thank you to Lex who is always there to "always be right"; you're my favorite east virginian.
> 
> Thank you to Ashley for being my biggest fan. 
> 
> And thank you to the person reading this because honestly. without your support I wouldn't be posting the tenth chapter of this "one shot".

The first thought that crossed your sleepy mind was that you were very warm. Cozily encircled in the arms of Wilhemina Venable. A grin crossed your face as you remembered the events of the previous night; that you were completely naked under the thick quilt covering the two of you. 

She was asleep, her chin tucked into the crook of your neck. You could feel her even breathing against your skin as you scooted closer to her. She murmured something unintelligible and her arms tightened around you. You doubted she would ever believe how clingy she usually became in her sleep; it was exceedingly adorable to see her in such a state so often. You pressed your lips to her temple, draping your free arm over her hip to rest your hand against her lower back. She sighs and moves against you, hooking a leg over yours. You move to press another kiss to her cheek, another to her jaw. She moves again, this time her hips move so that your upper thigh is between her legs. Your breath catches as she lightly grinds herself against you and moans softly against your neck. You adjust your leg so that she has better leverage and push against her center. You can feel a distinct dampness against your naked thigh. She groans and her eyes snap open. She stiffens and bites her lip hard upon meeting your eyes. She begins to move away and you rest your hand on her hip.

“You don’t need to stop, if you don’t want to. I can imagine you are feeling frustrated.”

She opens her mouth to speak, closes it. Presses her lips together and looks away. You decide now is not the time to beat around the bush. 

“Did you get off last night?”

She is still not looking at you, but you can feel her breathing has become uneven. She nods. You move your leg against her; her eyes slip shut and she gasps. 

“Do you want to again?”

She does not respond. You move your hand from her hip to cup her cheek and turn her head gently back towards you. 

“I asked you a question, V. Its only fair, baby. You took such good care of me, let me take care of you. Is this how you want it?” You punctuate your sentence by grinding against her. Her thighs clench around your leg as she presses against you in return. 

“Yes. Yes, I want this.”

You kiss her passionately. She places a hand on your hip, and you laugh against her lips. She has managed to take control of this situation; she is setting the pace by pulling you against her in time with her movement. This comes as no surprise to you, and you let her lead.   
You spend a few minutes making out before she begins to speed up, her breathing becoming too shallow to continue kissing. You don’t mind, and you pull away slightly. She almost whines, looking up at you. 

Her cheeks are pink, her pupils are dilated. You can now definitely feel wetness on your thigh, even through her shift and underwear. She takes your breath away.

“You’re so beautiful.”

She tries to kiss you then and you dodge her lips. 

“No. You got to watch me. I want to watch you.”

This seems to turn her on even more as she tilts her head back and moans; her movement speeds up at your words as her fingers clutch your hipbone so hard you think she may leave a mark. 

You bite your lip as she locks eyes with you. She is panting now; she struggles to maintain eye contact. She is rutting against you and you are pressing against her fully each time she bucks her hips. Her eyes slip shut as her breath comes in quiet gasps. She speaks, so quietly you almost don’t hear her. 

“I--I’m close.”

Your own breathing is labored; you clear your throat against the lump in it. Her eyes flutter open and you feel your heart pound harder at the sight of her. Needy, wanting, desirous of you. Only you. 

“What do you need, baby?”

She writhes against you, tilting her face up to you as her eyes shut once again. 

“Kiss me. Now.”

You do so, bringing your lips together fully, holding onto her hip. You slide your hand down her back to her ass. You match the tempo of her hips with your own. Noting with smug appreciation that this possessive movement seems to arouse her further, you kiss her harder. Deeper. She moans into your mouth, and you moan in response.   
The movement of her hips has become erratic; you can tell she is at the edge. Her shameless noises are swallowed by your hungry lips as you pull away just enough to whisper to her.

“Cum for me baby, let it go.”

She thrusts against you a final time, her body going rigid. A keening cry escapes her lips; you kiss her finally, hotly, as she begins to shake. You swallow her cries, lest she wake the whole outpost. You can feel a rush of wetness against your skin and you bite her lip lightly before soothing it with the tip of your tongue. The idea that you are the one to make her come undone like this makes a simmering warmth spread throughout your body. 

“V, you’re wonderful, incredible...”

This you mumble against her lips. She allows you to scatter soft kisses across her forehead, down across her cheekbone to her jaw. You kiss her lightly, wrapping your arms around her middle as she adjusts herself to a more comfortable position. You can feel as well as hear a low, satisfied hum emanating from her throat as the aftershocks of her orgasm subside. 

She draws her fingernails down the middle of your back, then up again. It is not a sexual touch, rather it feels reverent and tender. You press your forehead against hers and smile. 

“How was that?” 

She returns your smile; she looks half drunk. She is so enchanting to you at this moment; her hair is a mess, she is loose and relaxed in your embrace. You think you could live with making her feel like this forever. 

“That was intense. Phenomenal. It...great.” 

She sighs and lays her head back on the pillow and closes her eyes. There is a decidedly serendipitous expression on her face. 

“Ask me again in a few minutes. I am sure my ability to form coherent thought is lacking at the moment.”

You laugh out loud. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She reaches for your hand to entwine your fingers. 

“You should. I am not often at a loss for words,” she squeezes your hand, “nor do I usually allow naked women in my bed.”

Your eyebrows raise as you allow a look of faux jealousy to cross your face.

“I would hope you don’t allow just any woman to be naked in your bed; look at me, thinking I was special.”

She slides the fingers of her free hand into your hair, tugging just barely as she chuckles. 

“You are special, so very special. My magnificent pontificator.”

Just before she brings your lips together, she breathes a declaration against your cheek that makes your heart soar. No matter how many times you hear it, you know you will never tire of these words.

“I love you.”

\------

As much as the two of you would enjoy spending the day in bed, you eventually part to attend to your respective duties for the day. 

You were having a rather uneventful time of it. There were three people currently seated in the common area of the library, a grey and two purples. You were off to the side, seated at a table by yourself behind a long shelf. In your solitary spot, you were currently attempting to repair the binding on about a dozen books; the decision to undertake this task had been made when, for the third time, you found yourself doodling a certain set of initials on your paperwork. You were not entirely sure that the grey, who approached your desk without a sound, saw anything at all. Maybe the smirk on her face as you hurriedly covered the paper with a book was completely unrelated. 

It ended up being a blessing that you were off alone. There was the sound of the door shutting, and after a pause a quick rap of a cane. A stern command followed.

“Feet off the table. This is not your living room. Act like an adult, for heaven’s sakes.”

The grin on your face spread as you heard a chair scoot and a quiet response of “Yes, Ms. Venable.”

You placed the tome you were working on down, but before you could stand, she appeared around the corner. She held up her hand, you returned to your seated position. You watched her gaze slowly move around the entirety of the section you are occupying. Upon seeing that there are no prying eyes, she allows herself a genuine smile. 

You can’t help but smile in return. 

She joins you, hooking her cane over the lip of the table as she sits. 

“What are you working on?”

You wonder for a moment if this softer tone is reserved exclusively for you. It is only present when you can steal small moments like this together. When you are among the others she addresses you as she would any other; when you were alone enough to allow it, you see this momentary tenderness. It always caused a pleasant feeling to bubble in your chest. 

“Trying to salvage some of these. Don’t know why I bother.”

She holds her hand out at your exasperated sigh.

You shrug, handing the well worn copy of Pride and Prejudice to her. You lean back in your chair, watching her intently as she smooths her fingers over the tattered binding.   
“I believe you treasure the written word; you ‘bother’ because this is something that is important to you. You wish to see it safe and well. These books mean something to you. Had you asked me a year ago if I thought anything in this place was worth considering a treasure, I would have considered it an affront.”

She trails off; her eyes are cast down towards the book on the table. Her hand comes to rest almost exactly between you. 

After you survey the area and see that you are indeed still alone, you place your palm on the surface of the desk. You slide your hand across until the tips of your fingers are touching. Her gloved hand inches forward as her gaze meets yours. She is stroking your index finger inconspicuously. Your mouth feels quite dry for some reason. You lick your lips to speak. 

“And now? Do you treasure...something?”

She smiles shyly; you both move forward. You are almost holding hands on top of the table. This is the most openly affectionate she has ever been with you in public. You are simultaneously thrilled and nervous. 

Before she can give voice to whatever thought she had in her head, there are raised voices from the central area. The moment is broken, and Venable removes her hand from the table; her eyebrow quirks when you rub your forehead. You stand and place your hand on her shoulder as she moves to get up. 

“I’ll handle this. Those two can never just get along.”

In the time it takes you to make it to the main area, you hear expletives being exchanged. Chairs being tipped over. You hear the sound of retreating feet and a door open. 

The first sight you see is the man from months ago, the one with the accent whose name you cannot recall, pulling his arm back to strike. The other man you don’t recognize, but he is clenching both fists, one drawn back in a a mirror of his opponent. This isn’t the first time these two had gotten into an altercation; they hadn’t yet come to blows. Yet. 

“What the hell, what have I said about this?”

They both turned to you, but neither made a move to give up any ground. They both began shouting. At you or at each other, it may have been a mixture of both. They were almost in one another’s faces at this point. 

“He is always doing this!”

“Where I’m from we don’t tolerate shit like that!”

They face each other again and you shake your head. You step towards them both, and three things happen simultaneously. It would be an interaction that seemed comedic to any outsider.

The first is that you step between the two, attempting to separate them. You can see movement from the corner of your eye, but realize too late that it is a fist that connects hard with the side of your nose. 

The second is a muffled “oh shit” in a long, low drawl as the owner of said fist realizes he has missed his target completely . Both men step away, perplexed looks coming over their faces as you bring your hands up to catch the blood..

A hand comes to rest on your shoulder as you blink away the tears. “Are you alright? Hell, darlin’, I didn’t mean to--I’m sorry...” 

He turns your face towards him. He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief to hand to you. His hand remains on your shoulder as the three of you turn towards the sound of a cane.

The third and final event in this trifecta plays out as follows. Venable turns the corner, and immediately meets your eyes. You can see the wheels turning in her head as she surveys this situation. The look that comes over her once she notices the bloody rag in the hand that is held to your face, the obnoxious agressor’s hand on your shoulder and the current state of the room is dark. You cannot recall ever hearing her speak in the tone that follows. Her voice is ice cold.

“Get your hands off of her. Now.”

Both of the men step away from you; they both make an attempt to speak. She silences them with a rap of her cane that echoes through the vast room. 

There is a long, tense silence. She comes to stand in front of you. You watch her; her knuckles are white where both of her hands grip her cane. 

This had become one of her tells. When she wants to touch you and cannot, for whatever reason, she will give herself away in this manner. You smile, just a bit, behind the fabric you’re holding to your nose. 

“Are you alright?” 

Her inflection is even. She is close enough to you now that you can see the concern in her eyes. With her back to the men, she can allow this small slip of her mask.

“Yes, Ms. Venable. Just a bloody nose. I’m fine.”

She nods, and as you glance down you see the fingers of her left hand barely graze the front of your top just before she turns. The small smile spreads and you are grateful for the cloth barrier. You don’t need anyone seeing how her concern for you makes you go all soft. 

There is another apprehensive calm as she makes a wide circle around the fighters. The rhythmic noise of her cane as she walks almost seems to punctuate the exchange that follows.

“Are you two children? Incapable of acting in a manner becoming your age? It seems to me that I am running some sort of day care; surely there is a rational explanation for the state of this room,” she motions to the chairs on their sides, the books on the floor, “just as I am sure there is a reason that my librarian is nursing an injury. Since I am a reasonable woman, I will allow you to explain yourselves.”

She turns on her heel to confront them. Neither of them speaks. 

“Nothing, then? Am I to believe there is no other reason than that two puerile imbeciles thought it would be a good idea to resort to violence today? That an injury to a bystander, someone who was attempting to save you two halfwits from your own arrogance was...somehow the intended outcome?”

Her voice was rising; her unruffled tone was becoming decidedly agitated. You heard a far away door open; took two steps closer to where Venable was standing. 

“What if you had seriously hurt her? A bloody nose we can handle; broken bones are another story. It is infantile to allow your idiotic maleness, your preponderance of testosterone to-- to put the rest of us at risk. Do you not--,” She took a sharp breath.

Meade had entered with the grey who had disappeared. She must have gone to fetch her without knowing Venable was present. The focus of the room fell on Meade, giving you a moment to try and ground her. 

At the touch of your hand to her elbow, she noticeably relaxed. You could still feel her just slightly shaking in anger.

Meade began questioning the two men, and the hubbub gave you just a moment to lean towards her. In a hushed tone, you spoke and your fingers pressed firmly into the muscle of her arm.

“I’m okay, V. I’m good.”

She released the breath she had been holding and you watched her shoulders slump for only a second.

You backed away, taking a moment to see if your injury was still bleeding. It seemed to have stopped.

The attention returned to Venable; she had already returned to her imposing stance. Meade leaned in to tell her something and Venable nodded her head. 

“Acceptable. Get them out of my sight.” 

She waved her gloved hand in a cavalier gesture; Meade and her associate urged the men out of the room. You stopped the little grey girl as she passed you with a hand to her arm. 

“You don’t need to leave. I’m really okay. Thank you for your help.”

She smiled, patting your hand. Her eyes darted over to Venable who was leaning against your desk and pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“I think I do. You two should be alone right now. I think she needs you.”

You could feel color creeping into your cheeks as your mouth opened to protest. The girl squeezed your arm. Were you becoming that careless? 

“I..we’re not, she doesn’t--”

The soft smile on the girl’s face was sincere. Her eyes were kind. Somehow you felt you could trust her. You thanked her again quietly.

“It’s alright. No one else can tell. It isn’t obvious; I’ve just always been observant. Your secret is safe with me. Everyone needs someone, and she needs you. Go.”

You could feel the pinprick of tears in your eyes as you squeezed her hand. It must be residual pain; it couldn’t be relief at the acceptance of your relationship by a second person. She returned the gesture before making her way to the door. 

At the sounds of her exit, you knew you were truly alone. Venable had returned to the table you were binding books on. She tilted her head as you approached her. You cleared your throat. 

“We are alone, and I can tell when anyone comes in.”

She approaches you. Her free hand cups your cheek, her thumb brushes your lower lip.

You cover her hand with yours. Your fingers lace together and you turn into her touch.

“If he had really hurt you...,” Her eyes look glassy and your heart clenches in your chest. 

“Baby, look. I’m fine. I know I look like I got in a fight. Well, I kind of did, but I’ve had worse. Look at me.”

She does, and you cover her other hand where it rests on the top of her cane. You smooth your fingers up over the back of her hand. Down and around to brush the skin of her wrist between the border of her glove and her sleeve. 

“I would not be able to carry on, should something happen to you.”

You squeeze her wrist tenderly. Someone has opened the door, but you hadn’t heard it shut yet. You knew you had about a minute.

“You’re not going to have to, love. You’re stuck with me. I’m coming to see you tonight, alright?”

She smiles. “It’s a date.”

 

You step away from her touch, and her hand returns to its spot atop her cane. You lean in and press your lips to her cheek in a quick kiss. She hums in her throat, content.  
You return to your desk, taking books from the woman returning them. Upon seeing your face and the stained fabric in your hand, she comments loudly.

“Shit, what happened to you?”

You notice Venable is taking her leave; you laugh and could swear you hear her snort at your response. 

“You think this is bad? You should see the other guy!”


End file.
